I told him that, on her deathbed, mother had said, "He will marry her

for all."

I now felt satisfied that Gustava had, in all likelihood, referred to

Annette. Ludwig felt sure of it; but, as if at the same time marking

out his own course, he said, "Father, do not let Richard notice our

feelings in this matter, or we may frighten him away."

Wolfgang's desire to become a forester met with the glad approval of

his father, who said: "It will soon turn out with the American forests

just as it does with the fishes of the sea. One cannot always be

harvesting and preying on others; it is necessary to plant and to

cultivate as well."

He requested Annette, who was very much interested in Wolfgang, and

spent much time with him, not to interfere with his wonted equanimity;

for she was constantly trying to discover how Wolfgang felt when he saw

a church-steeple, or heard the church-bells. She had just emerged from

an atmosphere which was religious to the exclusion of all other

considerations, and the youth was therefore a mysterious and marvellous

contrast to all that she had left behind her. He seemed to her the

representative being of later centuries; and she tried to discover how

things would be after our generation. She was pleased to call Wolfgang

'Emile, and reminded us of Rousseau's work of the name.

Ludwig's wife avoided Annette, who, in her impulsive way, had at once

desired to cultivate intimate relations with her. Conny, who was quiet

and reserved, had a dread of the restless fluttering of such a being as

Annette.

CHAPTER XI.

One evening, Martella came to me, and, with a timid manner to which I

was quite unused in her, asked me to allow her to return to Jaegerlies,

with whom she had formerly lived. She had heard that the old woman was

sick, and at the point of death. She had left her quite suddenly, and

now wanted to return; and thought it would be far better if she were

not to come back until our guests had left.

She extended her hand to me, and said, "I promise you that I will

surely return."

Her behavior puzzled me; and when I endeavored to find out why she

really wished to leave, she said that it might be a stupid feeling, but

she had a constant presentiment of some great misfortune near at hand.

I tried to persuade her that there were no grounds for this uneasy

feeling, as Ludwig, his wife, and Wolfgang all treated her as one of

the family. She persisted in her determination; and I at last reminded

her that she had promised my wife never to leave me.

"I did not think you would remind me of that," she said; "but, of

course, if you fall back on that, I shall remain here even if they try

to drive me away."

Martella might well feel anxious, for she was a living proof that our

family was incomplete; she, too, had been obliged to accustom herself

to constant sorrow, and to learn to lead a life tranquil and resigned.

Nearly all to whom invitations had been sent, promptly answered that

they would come. My sister wrote that she would bring her daughter, and

her future son-in-law; but, that, on account of his duties, her husband

would be unable to leave home. My brother-in-law, the pastor, who lived

in Alsace, was also unable to come.

With every letter that came, I felt as if I must read it to my wife.

Who could so help me to celebrate such a day, as she would have done?

The life of the best of children is really for themselves. It is only

the wife who lives entirely for and with her husband--one life

consisting of two lives inseparably united. Inseparably! They have been

separated, and a portion yet lives, leading a fragmentary existence.

I succeeded in repressing my emotions, and prepared myself for the

great joy which was yet vouchsafed me.

On his return from his short trip, Ludwig had much to tell us, giving

us quite a medley of merry and sad experiences. He had met many of his

old comrades; and, among others, had visited his most intimate friend,

a Professor at the teachers' seminary, in a town of the Oberland. The

Professor was a model of quiet unobtrusive learning.

"I am shaping my block of stone," were the Professor's words: "what

place it may occupy in the great Pantheon I do not know; but,

nevertheless, I fulfil my little task as well as I know how."

He felt quite sad to find one of his old comrades in the very position

he had occupied twenty-five years before. He might have become one of

the best of men, for he has a good wife, and fine children; but he is

the slave of drink, and is intoxicated from morning till night. Indeed,

in the country one must constantly renew his intellectual life, or

there is danger of giving way to drunkenness.

Ludwig had also visited his uncle, the Inspector of the water-works at

the Upper Rhine, under whom he had worked for a year. He regretted his

inability to attend our festival, but promised to send his son; and

Ludwig was quite pleased when he told us how his uncle had said:

"The Rhine seems as if lost, and does not know whither it should flow.

It is against nature that one bank of a stream should belong to one

country, and the opposite bank to another."

Sister Babette and her family were the first to arrive; and, shortly

after their first greeting of Ludwig and his family, they inquired for

Martella. She was delighted to find that they were so much interested

in her, and also to obtain from them some little news in relation to

Ernst's short stay with them. Even Pincher recognized the Alsatians.

The bridegroom-elect, who was now an officer of the customs, had come

in his uniform, and was quite condescending in his manner, as if he

intended, with every word, to say, "I am superior to you all, for I am

a Frenchman." And yet, in spite of this, he had the very German name of

Kraeutle.

Annette did him the favor to speak French with him. He was quite

delighted, and Annette asserted that he and his bride were ashamed of

the Alsatian language; when speaking French, they evidently felt that

they appeared at their best, and to ask them to forego that pleasure

would be much the same as requiring one never to wear his Sunday

clothes.

Annette was embroidering a silk ribbon; and Richard picked up the end

of it and held it in his hands. But she generally managed to spoil the

effect of her pretty speeches, and added that people could talk French

without having ideas; but that, when speaking German, they noticed the

absence of costume, and were ashamed thereat. When she uttered these

last words, Richard dropped the ribbon he had been holding, and walked

away.

Annette was happy whenever she could express her pleasure with any one,

and Ludwig was not wrong in saying:

"She will be one of the best of wives when she is once a mother. Now

she is fluttering about, hither and thither; is herself restless, and

disturbs others."

With every hour, new guests arrived, and Martella said: "It was stupid

of me to have wanted to go away; I am needed here, where there are so

many strangers--no, not strangers--O dear Lord, so many beings who

belong to one! If mother were only living yet, she could help me love

them. O dear father, when we step over into eternity, and meet all the

beings who belong to us--so many! so many! Indeed, father, you are now

experiencing a part of eternity."

And it was so.

But I felt that age was coming on me. I could not walk about much, and

was obliged almost constantly to remain seated in my room, where they

all came to me. To see Wolfgang and Victor together, was to me joy

unutterable. My sister asserted that, when a child, I had looked just

as these two now did. I cannot imagine that I ever looked so elegant

and distinguished-looking.

After the Major joined us, the customs officer became much quieter in

his manner; for the Major had come in full uniform.

Johanna, who, since Ludwig's arrival, had become even more reserved and

austere, seemed to find the meeting with her son, the vicar, a pleasant

change. Nothing daunted by my presence, she complained to him that,

with a sister-in-law who had only been married by a civil magistrate,

and with a nephew who had not even been christened, she felt as if

living among heathens.

The vicar, who was more liberal in his views, and yet felt quite at

home in his vocation, pacified his mother, and she concluded to take

part in the family festival.

The eldest son of the inspector of the water-works came with his two

sisters, and the Major was delighted to find that this young man, my

godson, had determined to follow the sea.

Ludwig told us that a sea-captain had assured him that the naval cadets

were principally recruited from the inland provinces, while the sailors

naturally came from among the dwellers along the sea-coast.

The medical counsellor, who had formerly been director of the jail in

which Ludwig and Rothfuss had been imprisoned, but who had now retired

on a pension, was also among the guests, and Rothfuss was delighted

beyond measure to meet him again.

Baron Arven did not fail to offer his congratulations. He seemed quite

surprised to find Annette dressed in colors. He cordially greeted us

all, and constantly addressed Ludwig as "Colonel." He remained but a

short time, and had probably only visited us in order to show that it

was his desire to keep on good terms with us, and that he wished to

have nothing to do with any enmities or unpleasant feelings which other

members of his household might cherish towards us.

Ah, I thought I could have given the names of them all, but I find it

impossible. The hearty greetings of so many guests had so fatigued me,

that I slept until late on Sunday morning. When I awoke, I heard a

lovely chorus, accompanied by an harmonium; and, after that, a

quartette of female voices.

This was the first intimation we had of Conny's powerful and

sympathetic contralto voice.

The other voices I recognized at once. They were Bertha's, Annette's,

and Martha's.

If it was pleasant to see Wolfgang and Victor together, it was,

perhaps, yet more lovely to see the sympathy between Conny and Bertha;

and Martella expressed my own feelings, when she said, "Dear sister

Conny, you did not have the happiness to know mother, but Bertha is

very much like her."

When I at last joined all my kindred, there was a new surprise in store

for me. Before retiring, I had inquired about Julius. I do not know

whether you have already observed it, but he is a special favorite of

mine. He is well-off in every respect--well provided for, both

intellectually and in regard to the world's goods, though without great

riches or luxury. He is like a healthy forest-tree; without bright

blossoms, but silently thriving, nevertheless. I shall not indulge in

further praise of him, for he dislikes praise.

And now Julius came and told me that Ludwig had obtained a dispensation

for the marriage of the young people without the delay of publishing

the banns. Rontheim and his wife had at first been disinclined to

consent to such haste, but Ludwig had persistently urged them. And now

it was determined that the wedding should take place to-day, and that

his cousin, the vicar, should marry them, for Martha had insisted that

they should be married by a clergyman. Whereupon Ludwig said: "We are

certainly very tolerant towards these believers."

I had ceased to be surprised by anything.

We marched towards the church to the sound of music, the ringing of

bells, and the noise of cannon, which the mountains re-echoed. But when

we reached the spring, which, as I afterwards learned, had been

decorated by Martella, I felt a pang. Why could Gustava not have lived

to enjoy this? And then, repressing the sad thought, I let joy descend

upon me, and said to myself, "Keep thyself erect, and in health, so

that thou mayest not disturb the happiness of the many who belong to

thee."

When we reached the spring at the edge of the woods, we halted. What to

us had seemed impossible, Ludwig had already accomplished. The iron

column was already there, and around it were stone seats, and also a

high bench, where people might lay aside their burdens.

"One learns these things in America," said Ludwig. "There they do not

care for yesterday, and do not console themselves with the hope of

to-morrow: all must live in the present."

After leaving the church, where the wedding was celebrated in a simple

manner, we marched in procession to the family woods, where, by

Ludwig's orders, great tables had been erected; and on our way there he

told me how clever Ikwarte had been in the work.

I cannot find words to speak of the great table in the woods.

Before we seated ourselves, we were all obliged to remain perfectly

still for a short time. Ludwig had made arrangements to have the whole

group photographed. They all say that I look very sad in the picture;

it may be so, for I could not help thinking, "Where is Ernst now? Does

the sun that now shines on us, shine on him too?" It is especially

pleasant to see Martella and Rothfuss in the background, holding each

other's hands. Annette is also in the family picture; her eyes are

downcast, while Richard is looking towards her. Since the loss of her

husband, she had never laid aside her mourning, but to-day she wore

colors.

The Major's speech at the dinner was even better than the vicar's in

the church.

Martella's best and only treasure was Ernst's prize cup. She had placed

it before me on the table, and Annette had wound a garland of flowers

around it.

After the Major's speech, the wine-cup travelled the rounds of the

whole table.

After the clinking of glasses, and the drinking of healths, the

conversation had become loud and excited; after that, all became as

noiseless as in a church during silent prayer. It was one of those

pauses that ensue after the soul has unburdened itself, and when, for a

moment, there is nothing new to engage it.

And during that pause I could hear Annette saying to Conny, "Yes, dear

Conny, I, as a stranger, beloved and loving in return, can speak more

impartially than relatives can. I cannot describe the mother to you;

and yet I have seen her to-day, or at least her counterpart. When

Julius was standing at the altar, he had her very expression. He

resembles her more than any one--he has her eyes.

"Ah, what a pity that you did not know her! She was full of life, and

yet gentle withal; and when she spoke with you, she never looked to

right or left. She never tried to create an impression, and yet in her

presence one always felt exalted; and while her glance rested on one,

it was impossible to indulge in vile or ignoble thoughts. What to

others seemed exalted and great, was with her a matter of course. She

practised and expressed all that is highest as easily as others say

'Good-morning.' In her hands, even the common-place became invested

with beauty. She judged of people with love, and yet with freedom.

"Thus, she once said, 'I felt inclined to be angry with Baroness

Arven, because she does not understand her excellent husband; but he,

on the other hand, does not do his wife justice. She is created for

society--for interesting, witty small talk--and he desires to feed her

soul with thoughts of nature and Fatherland. Fanaticism, in every one

of its thousand shapes, endeavors to force its own convictions on

others, and this is both good and evil at the same time.'

"She said something to me which I have worn as an amulet, and it is,

after all, but a simple maxim.

"When I complained to her that it was so difficult with me to fix the

proper relation towards others, she replied:

"'Child, you do not maintain the right distance between yourself and

others. With every one, even though it be a Rothfuss, you move into

most familiar contiguity.' Her words impressed me deeply, and were of

great help to me.

"She understood herself, and that made every one else feel on sure

ground. When one felt depressed or sad, without hardly knowing why, the

mere fact that you were suffering was enough to arouse her sympathy:

and that would always cure the pain.

"But what avails it to speak of separate disconnected traits. I might

as well try to give you an idea of a glorious symphony by singing a few

bars of one of its melodies. When with her I felt in a higher world."

Thus spoke Annette. She did not seem to notice that all were silent

while she was talking.

And then Bertha and Conny arose from their seats and covered her with

their caresses.

I could not move from the spot. I saw Richard rising, but he sat down

again at once.

Ludwig turned to him and said: "Her mind and her exterior correspond.

At first she does not impress one as wondrously beautiful; but, day by

day, she grows in loveliness."

This invocation of my wife had, for the time being, invested the

festival with a certain solemn impressiveness; but soon mirth burst all

bounds, and the young couple again became the centre of joy.

Rontheim was so happy that he drank fellowship with the Major, with

Ludwig, and with Richard. A blissful feeling of brotherly affection

seemed to unite all.

Rothfuss afforded us great amusement. He wore a bouquet in his hunter's

coat, and another, with a red ribbon streaming from it, in his hat.

"Colonel," he called out to Ludwig, "may I be permitted to say one

word?"

"Have you made up your mind what to wish for?"

"No; this is something else. All I wish is that you shall say 'Yes,'

and that will do."

"What do you mean?"

"Listen. You are Colonel of the negroes--of the blacks--and there are

people who say that negroes are not human beings. Now listen! What is

it that man alone can do, and that neither horse nor ox nor stag can do

like him?"

"Why, _speak_, to be sure."

"Wrong: The beasts do speak; but we are too stupid to understand them.

No; I mean something quite different: _man alone can drink wine_. If

the negroes can drink wine, they are men just as we are. Tell me, can

negroes drink wine?"

"Yes."

"All right, then. Here's to the health of our black brethren."

He emptied his glass and was about to walk away, when Richard called

out: "Stop! I ask all to join me in drinking the health of the great

man who has solved the question of slavery, in wine. Long live our

great philosopher--Rothfuss!"

It seemed as if the cheers would never end, and Rothfuss called out,

"To-day I will get jolly drunk seven times at least--no, seven times is

not enough!"

When we at last arose from the table, I inquired for Rothfuss. I was

concerned about him, for he had been acting like a crazy man.

Ikwarte said that, although Rothfuss showed signs of having drunk too

much, he had gone up into the woods and had taken a bottle of champagne

with him.

They hunted and hunted, and at last found him. He was asleep, and the

empty bottle was lying on the ground by his side.

"Oh," he complained, "why did you wake me? I died so happy. To die

drunk is the best way, after all; now, I've got to die over again. No

matter; I'll wait for master, and then we will ride to heaven in double

harness; or, if the parson is right in what he says, to hell. It's all

the same to me; I shall stay with master."

Then he embraced Ludwig, and repeatedly said to him; "Let me go to jail

once more for you." They managed to get him home without further

trouble.

CHAPTER XII.

The newly married couple left; but the young people were averse to

breaking up, and kept up the dance until long after nightfall. A little

circumstance occurred which greatly excited Martella.

Julius's friends had come in their smart hunter's suits; even

Rautenkron had overcome his scruples, and attended the festival,

although he did not join us at table.

We were told that Rautenkron had always been angry that Martella was

permitted to keep her own dog, and Pincher, moreover, had a special

aversion to Rautenkron.

At the same time that Rothfuss was being looked up, a terrible barking

and yelling arose. The strange dogs had fallen upon Pincher, and it was

even said that Rautenkron had called out to his dog, "At him, Turenne!

Break his neck for him!"

When they at last succeeded in separating the dogs, Pincher was dead,

and Martella's lamentations were heart-rending. She indulged in

expressions that I would not have expected of her: "It was the only

living thing that belonged to me, and that Ernst had left me. Now I am

all alone in the wide world!"

When I spoke to her, she hastily said, "Forgive me; I am sometimes very

silly."

She could not bear the sight of the dead dog, and begged that he might

be buried in the woods.

In the meantime, Rautenkron was explaining to Wolfgang that his

ambition to become a forester was based on a false ideal; that dealing

in rags was a much prettier occupation. For then one need know nothing

of the people who once wore the rags; but that the forest people were

all cheats, and, if they could, would convert the trees into as great

cheats as they were.

We were still engaged watching the dancers, and it was a great pleasure

to see Wolfgang dance with Clotilde, the Major's daughter. Wolfgang

arranged an American dance, which was so wild that it evidently

originated with the Indians.

The young Alsatian couple also joined in the dance.

Carl had allowed Marie to dance with another one of the village lads,

and stood holding the hand of Martella, whom he had led to the dancing

floor. She said that she did not wish to dance, and that for tenfold

reasons she ought not to, especially as her betrothed was far away. But

all persuaded her. Rothfuss--who, having been aroused by the music, had

gathered himself up again, and was now seated at the table by the side

of Ikwarte--was especially anxious that she should dance.

When Martella began to dance, a great change seemed to come over her.

There was something uncanny in her features and in her eyes.

Nearly all of us left the dancing floor, and Annette requested Martella

to go with us.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed, while her eyes rolled and her lips quivered;

"I have now begun, and I cannot stop so soon. Good-night, my lady."

She remained, and all were filled with admiration of her light

movements and her wonderful _tours de force_.

"Why, you can jump about like a squirrel, and fly like a bird," said

Rothfuss.

"So I can," cried Martella. "Do you know how it is when one of the

cuckoo's brood leaves its nest in which the simple tomtits have fed it?

None of you have ever seen it, but I have. I, too, am one of the

cuckoo's brood. It flies away it flies away. Play on, fiddlers. Let us

have the cuckoo's song. Keep quiet, all of you; I will dance for you."

And then she began to dance, raising herself and bending towards the

ground again as if she really had wings; and all were delighted.

When she stopped all cried out, "Again! again!" and the Alsatian

exclaimed, "_Da-capo!_"

Ikwarte arose and said, "Miss, do not let them abuse your good-nature;

do not let them make a fool of you. There is enough of it."

"This is not your affair," exclaimed Carl, "you Prussian!--you

starveling!"

"I have nothing to say to you," answered Ikwarte; "you are not worth

answering."

Martella danced again, to the great delight of all.

But while she was dancing, one could see that it took several of the

lads to hold Carl.

When the dance was over, Carl rushed up to Ikwarte, and cried:

"You cursed Prussian! why do you think that I am not worthy of being

answered?"

"I have no respect for a man who would put himself in the way of being

captured."

"Is that it?"

"Carl, take none of the Prussian's impudence," called out Martella. "It

is the Prussians' fault that my Ernst had to go forth into misery. Pay

him up for it!"

And then followed terrible scuffling and fighting.

Ikwarte seemed, at first, unable to realize that he was actually

involved in a fight; but when he saw that matters were in earnest, he

seized Carl, and held him as firmly as in a vise. Rothfuss urged them

on, for fighting was his delight. They were at last separated, and then

Martella threw herself on the ground, tore her hair, and cried out, "It

is all my fault! It is my fault! I am ruined!"

Rothfuss succeeded in leading her away. She tried to escape from him

and to run out into the woods, saying, "Anything rather than go back

home, for I don't deserve to go there."

He succeeded, at last, in inducing her to enter the house of Carl's

mother. Accompanied by Annette and Conny, I went there to bring her

home, and was startled when I saw what a change had come over the poor

child. Nevertheless, her agitation had not disfigured her; she seemed

more lovely than ever--almost supernaturally beautiful.

"O father!" she cried. "Indeed, I have no longer the right to use those

words. I knew it; I felt a presentiment of it all, and I wanted to go

away. Why didn't you let me go? I don't belong here, and now less than

ever. The worst that could have happened to me has happened. I have

relapsed into savage folly. And yet she who is up there said, 'Do not

lose faith in yourself and in your goodness, and you can accomplish

everything.' The worst punishment is mine, for I have lost faith in

myself. I may become crazed again any moment; I no longer believe in

myself."

When Conny and Annette spoke to her in their kind way, she exclaimed,

"Every kind word of yours gives me new pain. Scold me, beat me, kick

me--I deserve such treatment, and shall find it less painful than kind

words that I do not deserve. I was so happy in thinking that I had

accomplished all, but it is not so. Now I see how much love and respect

you all had for me; and when Ernst returns I shall tell him everything.

He may scold me heartily, for I have deserved it."

We conducted her to the house, where we found Ikwarte, whose appearance

seemed the very opposite of what it usually was. He seemed as if

crushed, and continually said, "Colonel, I admit that it was highly

improper on my part, especially as it happened in a strange land."

Ludwig took it all in good part, and laughingly remarked that North and

South Germany had again been scuffling with each other. Then he

apologized for Ikwarte, by saying that he could not stand wine; that,

except when taking communion, he had not tasted a drop of wine up to

his twentieth year.

Ikwarte stood by, nodding his assent and pulling his red mustache.

After that, he went off with Rothfuss.

In the meanwhile, Martella sat crouching on the floor in a corner of

the room.

Ludwig softly said to me, "Now is the time to let Martella tell us who

and whence she is."

I thought that as the child was overmuch agitated, it might be better

to wait until the next day; but he insisted that this was the proper

time.

CHAPTER XIII.

Ludwig went up to Martella and said, "Martella, there is a woman in

America who knows you."

Martella jumped to her feet and, brushing her hair from her face with

both hands, asked, "How do you know that?"

"I will tell you how, when you have told your history. Will you do so?"

"I will. It is well and proper that I should. But no one shall be

present but you and father. Forgive me, kind ladies," she said,

addressing Conny and Annette in an unwonted tone. "I can only tell this

to father and to brother."

She drank a few drops of water, and then, seating herself behind the

table that was next to the wall, began:

"I can only remember as far back as my sixth year. I have no distinct

recollection of anything that happened before that time. We lived in a

city on the Rhine,--I believe it is called Mayence. There are two sorts

of soldiers there--Prussians and Austrians. The Austrians have white

coats, like the cousin who once visited us with Baron Arven. Under the

small golden mirror in my mother's room on the opposite wall, there was

quite a large glass that reached from the ceiling to the floor there

was a portrait of a handsome officer, whom I believe I have already

seen. My mother always addressed him as 'Prince,' and he laughed when

she did so. His eyes were of a light blue; I cannot recall any of his

other features. My mother would often say to me, while she pointed to

the picture, 'Martella, do not forget, this is your father. He has

great love for me, and for you too.' It was a long while before I knew

how my mother gained her living. She would sleep until near mid-day,

and would often stand on her toes, or walk on them around the room.

Then she would suddenly let herself fall to the ground, spring up again

and take long steps. Then she would place herself before the mirror,

and bow and kiss her hands to herself. Once she looked so lovely, with

a thin gauze-like robe about her body, and various kinds of gauze over

that. She looked just like a beautiful bird, and almost like the

peacock down in the garden. And I was prettily dressed also. I had

wings on my shoulders, and they had two mirrors for me, so that I might

see how I looked in front, and in the back. And I had golden shoes on,

and had to learn how to spread out my hands and then bring them

together quite slowly. With a girdle around my waist--it was golden,

and studded with diamonds--I floated in the air, and could hear the

people screaming with delight and clapping their hands; but I could not

see where I was, or how many people were there. We rode home in a

carriage--I can recollect that, but cannot remember what happened for

some time afterward. One day, my mother showed me a man who wore a

green dressing-gown and had curled hair; then she said to me: 'My

child, this is your father now--you must say "father" to him.'

"He spoke to me, but I could not understand what he said; and mother

said, 'The child is worth ten thousand florins, and can earn a great

deal of money.'

"About that time, I often heard the word 'America,' and, as I was told

to call everybody 'uncle,' I once inquired where 'Uncle America lived?'

whereupon they laughed very loud, and the man with the curled hair,

whom I had to call father, kissed me.

"There was a maid living with us, who would always say, 'You poor

child, you must go to America, among the savages. O you poor child!'

"And one morning, I heard them say that we would go to America that

day. Down by the Rhine there was a great crowd and noise, and when we

were on the vessel, some one said, 'Keep your seat here, or you will be

left behind?' And when all was confusion on shipboard, I stealthily

crept on shore, and hid myself behind some hogsheads in which the bees

were humming; they did not trouble me. I heard the ringing of the bell,

and the paddling of the wheels--but did not move. I had a little

satchel full of cakes, which I ate.

"The embroidered satchel had been presented to me by the Prince, whose

picture hung under the mirror. I still own it; it is the only memento I

have of that time. And we had a dog whose name was Pincher, and for

that reason I called my poor departed dog by the same name.

"When at last evening came, I crept out of my hiding-place, and saw a

great crowd gathered about an old woman who was sitting on the ground

and lamenting: They have purposely left me behind; they did not want to

take me with them!'

"The people told her they would help her, and would give her money that

she might follow her relatives. But she always replied, 'No, I will not

do that; they do not want me.' And they gave the old woman money and

went on their way. And when they had all gone, I said to her, 'Take me

with you; I am worth ten thousand florins.'

"Then she laughed and said, 'Indeed you are!' And then I told her that

I had secretly remained behind--that I did not want to go to America.

"She laughed again, and took me on her lap, saying: 'That is right. We

two will stay together.'

"And we wandered far and near, and she told every one that I was her

granddaughter. We received many gifts, and every one told me that I was

so pretty; and I told the old woman--her name was Jaegerlies--that I

had wings, and she said, 'I believe it: they will grow again when I am

dead.' But I am telling you silly stuff--am I not?"

"No, no; go on."

"At last we reached yonder forest, and then Jaegerlies said, 'Let us

stay here.' She had acquaintances who lived in the neighborhood, but

she had no desire to meet any one, as they always laughed at her

because her folks had left her behind when they emigrated to America.

"The gifts that we had received, had enabled us to buy cooking

utensils, coverings for our moss beds, and a goat; and of food we could

always have plenty.

"The summers were pleasant, but the winters were not so. We caught many

birds, which served as food.

"I was also sent to school, and it was quite humiliating to me to be

always told that I was a 'Jew girl.' I did not know what was meant by

Jew, but I knew, that it was intended as a term of disgrace. I am not

sure, but I think my mother was a Catholic.

"And thus I grew up and could wield the axe as well as the strongest

wood-cutter; and no one dared to lay a finger on me.

"You might blind-fold me, and I could, by my sense of smell, recognize

trees or their leaves. I carried a serpent's egg on my person; I had

found it one morning between eleven and twelve, and had pocketed it. I

had also a gift of finding wild honey, and the bees never harmed me

when I took the combs. I was once employed that way, when Ernst came up

to me. He acted as if he were about to punish me for what I had done;

but I told him that this was not breaking of the laws of the forest,

and that it was not poaching. And then he said to me, 'You are wild

honey yourself.'

"Thus Ernst found me and brought me here, where I now am. But I do not

deserve it. They say that Ernst is in Algiers, with the wild Turks.

Give me some money that I may go to him--I can find him.

"But tell me now, Ludwig, how do you know that my mother is in

America?"

"I know nothing of it; I simply guessed so, because you always have

such a fear of America."

"So you are the son of such parents--and yet can lie? Your mother in

heaven will never forgive you for that."

Ludwig was moved by this apostrophe, and asked Martella to forgive him.

She nodded assent and shook hands with him and with me, saying at the

same time: "Father, I shall do nothing more but what you tell me to do.

I shall never again act of my own free will."

"Were you always called Martella?" inquired Ludwig.

"No."

"How, then?"

"Conradine."

"Who gave you the name of Martella?"

"Jaegerlies."

"Why?"

"Because, she said, 'No one will know you by that name, and if they

seek you they cannot find you.'"

"But how did she chance on that name?"

"That you ought to have asked her. And that is enough. Good-night."

Martella walked away.

Ludwig afterward told me that he had been making inquiries over in the

valley where Jaegerlies had been living. He could not understand why we

had not done so long before. Now it might be very difficult to discover

anything, as Jaegerlies had died a few days before.

He had learned, from the neighbors, that she often spoke of America in

a mysterious and indistinct manner, and that, together with Martella's

aversion to the very mention of America, caused him to question her in

the way he had done.

CHAPTER XIV.

In spite of Martella's and Ikwarte's trouble, the great feast was

pleasantly remembered in our house and throughout the village. Annette

said: "Whenever I gave a large entertainment, it always grieved me to

see the many people, who had just been together so cheerful and so

lively, suddenly disappear. And it was always especially agreeable to

me when several of my more intimate friends would remain. We would then

gather together for a little quiet enjoyment, and so a smaller and more

congenial circle succeeded the larger one; for that reason, I think

some of us ought to remain here."

I saw Richard looking at Annette, and it was the first contented, happy

glance I had ever seen him direct towards her. He had intended to

leave, but now concluded to stay. It seemed as if, in spite of

themselves, they had always chanced on points on which they could not

agree, but now at last, and to their great delight, found themselves in

accord.

Annette had greatly changed. She would no longer suddenly bound from

one subject to another. Her manner had become calmer. She had learned

how to put her questions modestly and yet firmly, and also how to be

quiet.

Once she said, "Martella has told us what is the severest punishment.

It is this: to lose faith in one's self, and to learn that excitement

and weakness place us in the hands of chance or of strangers, and cause

us to express the very things that we have desired most of all to keep

within ourselves."

The festival brought painful consequences to Rothfuss, Ikwarte, and

Carl, as well as to Martella. They went about without saying a word,

and Annette, who was anxious to help, and quick to sympathize with

others, tried her best to cheer them up.

One morning, we were sitting in the garden. Richard and Conny had gone

over to the village, and Ludwig said to Annette, "We do not know how to

thank you for having given my wife so true and feeling a description of

mother."

Annette now expressed her delight with Conny, and when she asked Ludwig

how he had made her acquaintance, he said,

"If father does not object to hear the story over again, I will tell

you."

I consented, and Ludwig went on:

"The Americans have one thing in common with the old Romans; whenever

they found a city, they provide, above all things, for pure water.

There happened at the time to be a lively discussion in regard to the

building of water-works. I hoped that the contract would be assigned to

me, and travelled about for some distance through the neighboring

country, in order to find the best springs. A mountain brook whose

stream could easily be led into another, seemed to me best adapted for

the purpose.

"I followed it up to its source, and was fortunate enough to find rich

and copious springs. I had been wandering all day, when, towards

evening, I saw a log-cabin half-way down the hillside. I walked up to

it, and at last reached the house. The doors were open, and a dog, that

seemed to be the only guardian of the place, jumped towards me as if

glad to welcome me. I went into the entry and called out, but no one

answered. I opened the door, and found a cosy, pretty room.

"Mother always used to say that the walls of a room are an index of the

culture of its inmates. There were two engravings, copied from the

paintings of the great masters, an open piano, and above it a bust of

Mozart. I ventured to approach the piano. Mozart's G minor symphony lay

open on the music-desk.

"Although I had not touched an instrument for a great while, I felt a

great longing to touch the keys.

"I began to play, and felt as happy as a skilful swimmer breasting the

waves. I played on and on, forgetting where I was; and when I stopped

and looked around, I saw a fine-looking old man and a lovely, blooming

maiden standing in the doorway.

"I suppose I need not tell you more.

"I remained in the hospitable house over-night, and soon discovered

that my host was a refugee, and had been a comrade of father's.

Constance, or, as she was familiarly called, Conny, became my

betrothed, and afterwards my wife; and our son, who was born on the

anniversary of Mozart's birthday, received his name.

"Our marriage is a happy one, blest with perfect harmony in thought and

feeling.

"When I entered the army my wife merely said, 'You are doing right.'

"When my eldest son died, she was deeply afflicted, but soon resigned

herself to the thought that all must make sacrifices.

"I was not a good commander--not that I was deficient in courage or

endurance; but soldiering must be studied just like other things. My

long experience in topographical studies, was, however, of great use to

me. I had a quick eye for the advantages and the disadvantages of

positions on our side, or that of the enemy. On the other hand, the

Southerners had much better leaders than myself and many others who,

like me, had not studied the art of war.

"Now you know the most important facts; and I must stop, for I see

Conny and Richard coming."

They came, and Annette had enough self-command not to betray what she

had just heard.

CHAPTER XV.

Richard and Ludwig left with the intention of entering Wolfgang at the

forester's school. Richard and Annette now understood one another, and

Richard's parting words were: "I think you will do well to remain here

for some time. Your stay will be of benefit to yourself as well as to

others."

Annette made no answer, but I could not help observing how her breast

heaved with emotion.

She and Conny seemed also to be on excellent terms with each other.

Annette now understood how the intellectual life can be kept up, and

even developed, in solitude, and, as usual, she was always delighted to

find words in which to couch a new impression. She said to me, "There

are hermits of education as well as of religion, and they attain the

highest degree of development."

She often expressed her admiration of Conny's light hair, and

endeavored to persuade her that it might be dressed in a far more

effective style than the braids in which she wore it. Conny, however,

did not care to act on this suggestion of Annette's.

On his return, Ludwig told me that he would not be able to remain

through the summer, unless he had some fixed occupation. He was anxious

to carry out a plan for a new and large builder's mill. He would be

willing to superintend the erection of the building, but did not have

enough ready money to undertake the enterprise. When I told him that I

was no better off than he, Annette asked that she might be permitted to

advance the sum. I declined, but, as Ludwig at once accepted her offer,

I could make no further objection.

"Father," exclaimed Ludwig, with unwonted enthusiasm, "I firmly believe

that water-power will assist us to solve the great labor question.

"What we are about to undertake makes me, in many respects, feel both

free and happy. I hope to be able to set the two great levers of our

age--enterprise and economy--in operation. I felt the so-called social

question as a personal affront. I asked myself, 'Are you so old that

you need fear a great change? In your younger years, you felt offended

when you heard the old ones say, that is overdone, or utopian or

demagogical, or whatever it might be, but now you use these very terms

yourself.' I honestly examined myself in this, and felt obliged to act

as I have done.

"If we domesticate industry, and open new sources of profit to those

who dwell in the neighborhood, we are strengthening the best possession

we have in this woodland region--our love of home.

"Love of home is a life artery, which, if not killed, is at least

compressed by emigration.

"The old maxim advises us to remain at home and gain a living among

those whom we know best. We extend its application by enabling others

to do as we would do. We must learn how to keep up with the progress of

the age. At first, we sent rough logs down the stream, towards Holland;

now we send planks; and after this we must send them doors and

window-frames and steps."

It was a pleasure to hear him explain his plans. He was determined that

the people hereabouts should have better doors and windows, steps and

flooring, than ever before. Besides that, he would see that there

should be pretty designs for balconies. "The result of all which will

be, that both we and our countrymen will make lots of money. Actions

which are for the benefit of the general public will, if managed

rightly, turn out to the profit of the individual."

Annette wanted to know whether he would not destroy all individuality,

by attempting to provide people with ready-made houses just as they

could buy ready-made clothes.

"That is what I propose to do," exclaimed Ludwig, cheerfully. "All

should be uniform, for, after all, every one wears his coat in his own

peculiar way. And I think I can anticipate another objection you are

about to make--that the machines will disturb the landscape."

"That is my meaning exactly."

"And there are thousands who think just as you do. But mankind must

accustom themselves to new ideas. It is the question of spinning-wheel

or sewing-machine over again. Just as, in old times, the spinning-wheel

occupied the most exalted station in the household, so does the

sewing-machine now occupy the place of honor; and the spirit of beauty

and the force of custom will soon adorn the latter as it once did the

former--although that was a simple machine, while this is a complicated

one."

"Thanks," said Annette, extending her hand to Ludwig; "you are really a

citizen of the new world."

Ludwig's plan was to connect an island which lay in the valley-stream

with the mainland, by blasting out and turning in some rocks from

shore. He would thus be able to turn what had heretofore been useless,

to good account, and at the same time increase the water-power. He went

to work in true American style, and was delighted when I told him that

the raftsmen were not allowed to pass down the stream except during two

hours of the day, and that we could thus arrange our time in such a way

that they would not interfere with us. He felt pleased that the people

were no longer allowed to dilly-dally about their work, but were

obliged to make use of an appointed time. He decided that the time for

floating the rafts past the island should be fixed for the dinner hour,

when the workmen in the mill were taking their rest.

"Ah," said he at last, "I can remember the very minute when mother

explained to me what work really is. We were standing at the

blacksmith's shop when she said to me, 'Look, Ludwig, this pound of

iron is worth but a few _groschen_, but a pound of watch-springs is

worth many hundred _thalers_. This shows you what labor is.' The

recollection of that moment at the blacksmith's shop has remained alive

in my memory ever since. I can yet see the blacksmith's journeyman at

his work, forging the spikes with which the rafts were held together,

and while he was shaping one spike the other was heating in the fire. I

have always worked on the same principle."

We were visited by Annette's brother, who was just from Wildbad, and

told us that on the day previous the French Ambassador had left there

under instructions to visit the King of Prussia; and, it was further

rumored, to bring it about that no German Prince should ascend the

Spanish throne. There was great excitement everywhere, and he thought

it hazardous to invest large sums in new enterprises; especially so for

those who were near the French borders. The air seemed heavy as with an

impending storm, and no one could tell how soon the cloud might burst.

Napoleon would be obliged to justify the new lease of power that the

_plebiscite_ had given him; he would find it necessary to furnish

amusement for the French, who looked upon a war with us as a most

agreeable diversion. Anything would serve him as an excuse.

For this reason, he thought it his duty to dissuade Annette from

joining in our enterprise. He was willing, however, to advance the

required sum out of his own funds, for, after all, there must be peace

at last; and, if the undertaking should prove successful, it was his

intention to transfer either the whole or a half of his share to

Annette.

Ludwig wanted to employ none but discharged soldiers. He had no

confidence in workmen who had not served in the army; and, as the

stonecutter had been a soldier, he appointed him as chief of the

stone-masons. He engaged an older man to superintend the erection of

the building, who had been recommended as thoroughly honest; and it was

Ludwig's intention to take him back to America with him.

We learned that this man had formerly been an officer of engineers. He

had been obliged to resign, and now led a simple and industrious life,

eating and sleeping with the quarry-men. It was only when at work, that

one could notice that he was of a higher caste. But he seemed to have

no judgment of his own, and always required instructions; when he

received these he would execute them with care and precision. He was a

man of very few words, and always seemed as if seeking something which

he either could not or dared not name.

And then Ludwig sent for Wacker, the dissipated fellow who lived in the

valley beyond the mountains. He was only slightly intoxicated when he

arrived, and Ludwig said to him, "Wacker, I will give you a good

situation on one condition: you may get drunk three times; but after

the third, you will be summarily discharged. If you are agreed, all

right; and I shall only add, beware of the first time: it will not cost

you your situation, but it will make an inroad on your capital."

For a while, Wacker conducted himself properly; but he gave way at

last. He had his three drunks, and was consequently discharged.

It was now time to begin measuring and other preparations, and to

employ the laborers; for the first thing in order was to regulate the

bed of the stream.

Annette found great pleasure in watching the progress of the building.

Ludwig had ascertained where the stream had the greatest fall. He had

an instrument, by means of which one can, while on land, quickly

ascertain the descent of the current; and this, too, afforded Annette

much amusement. She was anxious to know whether the power of water was

measured by so many horse-power. In her desire for information, she was

constantly asking questions. Ludwig, being more practical than Richard,

was naturally more indulgent with Annette's questionings. Annette had,

moreover, ceased to speak as if she felt herself a privileged person;

she had become more simple and retiring in her ways.

One day when Annette exclaimed, "Ah, what a pity to make the pure water

work so!" Ludwig imitated her voice, and replied, "Ah, what a pity that

the beautiful horses must draw Madame Annette's carriage!"

Annette blushed crimson; but she controlled herself, and said, "You are

right; I spoke quite childishly."

"Oh, you angel!" cried Ludwig; "a woman who can say, 'You are right; I

have been wrong,' really is a marvel."

We received permission to carry the road farther down the mountain, and

in that way secured the best place to store our material.

There was another obstacle which we were obliged to overcome, and one

of which we had never thought. The Englishman had leased the right to

fish in the valley, from the villagers and farmers along the banks of

the stream; and he now attempted, through the courts, to enjoin us from

blasting the rocks; for just there was the best spot for trout.

Ludwig went before the court in person, and he succeeded in having the

injunction set aside.

Before that, the Englishman had been a mere stranger to us; but now he

was our enemy, and would not deign to bestow a glance on us. When any

one of us walked or drove by, he would turn his back on us.

In all this trouble, Ludwig was calm and kind; but careless work made

him so indignant that he characterized it as crime and villany. He was

dissatisfied, because, in their own home, he found that the German

workmen had two great faults--they were awkward, and wasted too much

time. In the new world, these very people would act quite differently.

Annette wanted to erect kitchens down by the banks of the stream

for the workmen. She had already discussed the matter with the

schoolmaster's wife, and the locksmith's widow was ready to assist; but

the people took no interest in the affair.

Although she had already made up her mind, the locksmith's widow

considered it her duty to consult Ludwig in regard to her marrying

again. She had chosen the young stone-mason, who was hardly as old as

she.

The wedding took place on a Sunday; and Annette busied herself

conjecturing how the three children must have felt at their mother's

marriage.

We were obliged, out of compliment, to be present at the marriage

feast; and Schweitzer-Schmalz, who was a relative of the bridegroom,

called out, at the top of his voice, that the bridegroom had not needed

to marry so soon for fear of being obliged to go to war again. The

blatant Prussian would not venture to try conclusions with France; and

if he did really attempt it, the real Germans, that is, the South

Germans, would not assist.

In a loud voice, he retailed the wisdom of the popular journals; and I

verily believe that he did it with the intention of drawing us out.

Ludwig whispered to me, "It is not worth while trying to convert this

man; events will teach him."

Although I did not believe there would be war, Ludwig looked forward to

it with great certainty, and only feared that we might neglect the

proper moment to let the whole world see that it was France that was

wantonly and impiously forcing war upon us.

We went down to the valley stream in order to see that no accident

should happen while the rocks were being blasted.

Ludwig superintended the blasting in person. With Annette and Conny, I

was stationed down the road, while Rothfuss and Martella were on the

other side, in order that all might be warned of the danger.

Suddenly there was a loud report which reverberated through the valleys

and the forests; the blasting was a complete success.

Soon after, we were assembled on the road, and even the quarry-men were

with us, when Ikwarte, accompanied by one of the forester's men, came

running up to us, out of breath, exclaiming, before he reached us:

"War has been declared!"

The forester brought me a message informing me that France had declared

war, and calling on me to repair to the meeting of the Parliament at

once.

Ludwig gave instructions that the work should be continued without

interruption, and placed the completion of the new building in charge

of the engineer. That very evening he accompanied me to the capital,

Martella going with us.

The Englishman stood by the bank, angling.

It was not until after I had left home, that I began to realize what

was in store for us.

BOOK FOURTH.

CHAPTER I.

The great crisis which we have dreaded and yet hoped for has at last

arrived. We are again obliged to contend with our hectoring neighbor,

whose lust of power goads him to trample on our rights. We must fight,

if we wish to endure; and will all Germany be united? If in this

juncture we are not as one, our ruin is assured, and will be richly

deserved.

To know that the decisive moment is at hand, and that you cannot

actively participate--that you are only a single wave in the current,

is at once an oppressive and an exalting thought.

In my mind, I go over the list of my fellow-members in the Parliament.

The decision seems to hang in doubt. Eccentricity is still rampant, and

decks itself with all sorts of revolutionary ideas.

And how is the Prince inclined? Were it better if it rested with one

man to decide whether we should have war or peace?

And there is another bitter experience that is forced upon us in

periods of doubt and indecision; namely, that fixed principles begin to

waver.

I found it a great comfort to have Ludwig with me. He was so thoroughly

in sympathy with me, and yet, at the same time, a foreigner. He had

become a citizen of the New World, in which he had lived over twenty

years, and his views were freer from prejudice than ours could be.

In spite of the declaration of war on the part of the French

government, the ravings in the French Legislative Chambers, and the

outcry in the streets of Paris, I yet encouraged a hope that war might

be averted. But Ludwig thought--and I was obliged to agree with

him--that it were both treachery and folly now, when the right was on

our side, not to accept the battle which would thus only be postponed.

For this constant waiting and watching for what others may do, is a

painful state of dependence.

Ludwig was younger; his pulse was steadier. He had already fought in

this country with undisciplined crowds, and, in the United States, had

taken part in the great war.

He said in confidence that if he had known that the decision was so

near at hand, he would have kept on better terms with Funk; because, at

that moment, the great object was to gain his allegiance and that of

his party, in which there was no lack of noble enthusiasts. Ludwig held

that, in politics, it was not alone permissible, but even necessary, to

use strategy and double-dealing.

Martella so urgently entreated me to permit her to accompany us, that,

for her sake, Ludwig's wife remained at home.

At the village down by the railway station, and at nearly every

station on the road, I was asked whether I believed there would be war,

and whether I would advise the people to drive their cattle into

out-of-the-way ravines and valleys, and to hide their household goods,

on account of the threatened invasion of the French hordes.

I took great pains to explain my views; but, at the second station,

Ludwig said: "Father, you are giving yourself unnecessary trouble. The

people do not wish to learn anything. They think that you cannot know

any more about it than they do. They simply ask you idle and anxious

questions, just as they would at other times, 'What kind of weather do

you think we will have?' Father, do not pour out the deepest feelings

of your heart."

After that, I replied that one could not say much upon the subject; and

I observed that the people, were more respectful because I was so

reserved. They assumed that, as I was a delegate, I was fully informed

on all subjects, and neither dared nor desired to unbosom myself.

It was rather late, but not too late. From that day, I learned that it

is not best to open one's soul to another and reveal all that is within

it; and for that reason, it is said of me that, since the beginning of

the war, I am a changed man. In those days, I learned things that never

were suffered to pass my lips.

The first one whom we met at the capital was my son-in-law, the Major.

"What is the opinion in the army?" inquired Ludwig.

The Major looked at him steadily, and, after a pause, answered,

"Opinion? In the army there is obedience." With forced composure, he

added, "As far as I know, the army neither debates nor votes."

He turned to me and said that this time we were better prepared than

four years ago.

I asked whether the army orders had already been promulgated.

He shrugged his shoulders, and evidently did not care to divulge

anything. He told me, though, that since the evening previous, he had

been advanced to the rank of colonel, and had been placed in command of

a regiment. When I spoke of this, as indicating that the Prince had

decided for war, he lapsed into silence.

We soon parted, regretting that we could not go to his house, for

Annette had already prepared quarters for our reception.

I then went to our club-house and learned that our party was already

broken up. The Funk faction--I must give it this name, although he was

not its leader--held separate meetings.

Ludwig determined logo at once to the meeting of Funk's party, because

it was important above all things to know what was being done there.

"I believe in Lincoln's maxim," said he, "that 'it will never do to

swap horses while crossing streams.'"

In little more than an hour, he returned and told us that he had been

coldly received, although the leadership was shared with Funk by two

members who had once been among his most intimate friends. He was now,

however, able to tell that their plan was to insist on neutrality. They

did not dare to think, much less to speak, of an alliance with France.

Their intention, however, was to call together a large meeting of the

popular party, in order to exert a moral influence on Parliament, and

perhaps to overawe it.

At our meeting, we were expecting the arrival of the prime minister;

the right wing of our party sided with the ministry.

The minister did not come; but sent one of his councillors, who

informed me that the session would not be opened unless a quorum of

delegates was present.

He told us that there was great disorder among the telegraphs.

After the councillor had left, Loedinger, my old associate and

prison-mate, told me in confidence, that he expected a _coup d'etat_.

He felt that the Prince had no desire to take counsel with the country,

and had determined that his glory as a warrior should be shared by no

one.

Loedinger was one of those imaginative persons who, whenever they form

suspicions against any one, carry them to their extremest consequences.

The President, who was a member of our party, told us under the seal of

secrecy, that the reason for delaying the opening of our session was

that they might first ascertain what action the delegates in the next

state would decide upon.

We were thus held in anxious suspense.

During the night, I found it impossible to sleep; and Ludwig, who was

in the next room, called out to me: "Father, you must sleep; to-morrow

will be a trying day. Just think of it!--the Emperor of Germany--I

should say, the King of Prussia--must also sleep to-night, and he is

three years older than you are."

Yes, it was on that night, the 16th of July, that my son announced the

German Emperor to me. I could not help smiling with joy, and at last

fell asleep. And, strange to say, I dreamed that I was again at Jena,

and that the fantastic mummery of those days was being renewed. Because

I had a round head and a ruddy complexion, I was termed the "Imperial

Globe," and they maintained that, with my large stature and broad

shoulders, the imperial mantle would fit me best of all. They placed it

on me, and I was obliged forthwith to distribute offices. And suddenly,

I was no longer the Emperor, but Rothfuss, who laughed most terribly.

I, too, was obliged to laugh--and, laughing, I awoke.

CHAPTER II.

When I opened my eyes, Ludwig stood at my bedside and said, "You have

slept well, father, and it is well that you did. You will need all your

strength to-day; for to-day it will be--Good-morning, Germany."

I cannot describe how my son's presence helped to strengthen me. I felt

that, with his power added to mine, I was doubly prepared for all that

might happen.

There is nothing more encouraging, in troubled times, than to have a

faithful friend at one's side,--a truth which was proved to me on that

day and many a time since.

I could not help recounting my strange dream, and when I added that it

gave me incomparable joy to think that the day had at last arrived in

which one might say the hearts of all Germans throbbed in unison,

Ludwig begged me not to talk so much. He said that he could sympathize

with me, and feel what a satisfaction it must be to me, after having

fought and suffered for fifty years, at last to witness the fruition of

my hopes, even though the price paid be war and bloodshed.

He was indeed right. He responded to all my feelings; I may indeed say

that he anticipated them.

When I reached the street, the throng was such that it seemed as if all

the houses had been emptied of their inhabitants. Here and there, were

groups talking aloud, and before the printing-office of the principal

newspaper, it was almost impossible to work one's way through the

crowd.

It was there that I met an old friend, the incorruptible Moelder. In

1866 he had resigned a high position under the state, in order,

thenceforth, to devote himself to his Fatherland, and, above all, to

the cause of German unity.

"It is well that I meet you," he said; "we have war now, and have

stolen a march on the French. Here, in the capital, the majority of the

citizens are on our side, but in the country, as you well know, the

so-called popular party is to a certain extent in the majority. The

common people are not so willing to follow our advice, for they are in

the hands of the clergy and the demagogues, who, for a little while

longer, will travel together on the same road. For this reason, we have

issued the call for a mass meeting at the Turners' Hall for this

evening."

"Would it not be best for us delegates to hold aloof from it?" I

inquired.

"No; it is too late for that. You will have to speak there, and so will

your son from America. We did not care to arouse you so late last

night, and I have, therefore, on my own responsibility, signed your

name to the call. But look!"

I saw crowds standing at the street corners, and reading a large

placard, calling on all whose hearts beat with love of Germany to meet

together--and I really found my name at the foot of it.

I could not object; our actions were no longer at our own disposal.

Excited crowds filled the streets during the whole day. The whole

population seemed like one restless being in anxious suspense. It was

said that the telegraph wires had been connected with the palace, and

as the people knew nothing of this before, the information caused great

surprise. The afternoon paper brought the official news that they had

wanted the King of Prussia to address the French Emperor in an humble

letter, in which he was particularly forbidden to refer to the

relationship existing between the French Emperor and the Prince of

Hohenzollern, who had been elected King of Spain--a pleasant

preparation for what was to ensue in the evening.

I did not see the Colonel during the whole day, but his friend,

Professor Rolunt, hunted me up; and, from the manner in which he spoke

of our project, it seemed to me that my son-in-law approved of it, and

that the popular movement about to be set on foot, was not looked upon

with disfavor by the government. Moreover, the Professor had become

very cautious, and was known to stand well with government circles. He

was believed to be an anonymous contributor to the official organ.

In the evening, we repaired to the place of meeting.

Moelder arrived, and with pale and trembling lips, told us:

"It is rumored that the friends of the French will attempt to break up

the meeting. But I have called on the Turners. They are all on our

side, and your son stands as well with them as he once did."

The proceedings began.

Moelder was the first speaker. I have never seen any one more excited

than he was. His lips trembled, and he held fast to the rail with a

convulsive grasp, while he began:

"We do not desire to become Prussians; but we wish to be Germans, as we

must and shall be. Is there one among you who would dare to utter the

accursed words, 'Rather French than Prussian!' If there be one who

dares to think it, let him dare to say it."

He paused for a while, and then exclaimed:

"Is there such a one among you? Answer me! Yes or no!"

"No!" resounded from a thousand throats, and he responded with joyous

voice, "Then we are all friends." He then concluded his address,

eloquently maintaining that to attempt to remain neutral were both

treachery and folly.

A young advocate who had been defeated in the recent elections, by one

of the clerical party, followed. He spoke with that studied eloquence

which talks glibly and in nicely rounded phrases. He concluded by

demanding that the whole meeting should proceed to the palace and

request the Prince to discharge his hesitating ministry; or, at all

events, the one minister who seemed to be unpatriotically inclined.

Enthusiastic and joyous shouts of approval were showered upon him.

I saw the danger that threatened, and asked for the floor.

"There has been enough talking; it is time now for deeds!" cried a

voice in the assembly, and it seemed as if the crowd were already on

the move.

My heart stood still. We were no longer masters of our own actions.

Then Ludwig cried out, in a voice so powerful that the very walls

seemed to tremble, "If you are men, listen! My father wishes to speak."

"Hurrah for the King of the Turners! Let old Waldfried speak! Silence!

Order! Let old Waldfried speak!"

It was a long while before the shouting and the cheering ceased, and I

think I spoke the right word at the right time.

I had a right to refer to my past, and to explain to them that it would

only create disturbance and confusion to adopt such violent measures

before anything had really been decided upon. If I were the Prince, I

would not yield to their wishes until the voice of the representatives

of the people had been heard.

The temper of the meeting changed, and I received many signs of

approval.

When I had finished, there were shouts of, "We want to hear the King of

the Turners speak!"

Ludwig mounted the rostrum; but so great was the applause, that it was

several minutes before he could speak.

At last he began, in a cheerful tone, saying that we Germans were still

full of the haughty arrogance of youth, and that this very meeting was

a proof of it.

Then, with words that carried conviction to all who listened, he told

them how the events of the last year had been a blessing to the

emigrants in America; a blessing, indeed, which could not thoroughly be

appreciated by those who were yet at home. The German had been

respected, if he could call himself a Prussian; but now the time had

come when the word _German_ must be an honored name. And if, as some

maintained, the South Germans are the real Germans, let them prove it.

If the Prussians are not yet Germans, they shall, and must, and will

become so. They delivered us from the real Napoleon; they will also be

able to free us from the counterfeit one. The first was not made of

gold, but this one is mere pinchbeck.

"I have fought against negro slavery; now the battle is against the

slavery that French ambition would submit us to."

While Ludwig was speaking, the chairman handed me a little slip of

paper, on which were written the words, "Your son knows how to allow

the heated steed to cool off before tying him."

Ludwig could, indeed, direct the mood of the meeting at will.

To the great amusement of his audience, he said that he had the rare

good fortune of having been born near the boundary line, and that,

consequently, the first object he had become sensible of, were the two

brightly painted posts which stood side by side on the road; and that,

while yet a child, he had often looked up to the trees in the woods, to

see whether they knew to which of the posts they belonged.

"And when I returned, the abject life that we had been leading was

again brought to my mind. On the one side marked by the bright post,

all is Catholic, and on the other side all is Protestant, because in

those times the people were obliged to accept their so-called religion

from their masters.

"Allow me to take a comparison from my own trade. It requires many

strong posts to make the scaffolding of a building. The departed

martyrs for German unity were the scaffolding. It has been torn down,

and now we behold the building, pure and simple, firmly and regularly

built, and appropriately adorned.

"Or another simile: Have you ever observed a raft in the valley stream?

It floats along slowly and lazily, but when it reaches the weir it

hurries; and then is the time to find out whether the withes are strong

and hold the planks firmly together.

"The German logs must now pass through the weir. There is a cracking

and a straining, but they hold fast to each other, and right merrily do

they float down into the Rhine and out into the ocean.

"The bells in the neighboring state have a different tone from ours;

but if the two are in accord, the effect is so much the more beautiful.

And from this moment let all bells chime in harmony."

Ludwig had the rare faculty of introducing apt illustrations while his

audience was all aglow with enthusiasm, and thus kept the meeting in

the best of humor and ready to agree with him when he concluded by

saying: "We have been patient so long--for more than half a century:

indeed, ever since the battle of Leipzig--that we can well afford to be

patient for a few days, perhaps only a few hours longer."

The meeting which had been so excited closed with singing. It was on

that evening that I heard "Die Wacht am Rhein," for the first time. It

must, before that, have been slumbering on every lip, and had now at

last awakened.

The young advocate who had proposed the immediate removal of the

minister, whispered to me, "I thank you for having defeated my motion."

I looked at him with surprise, and he continued: "I do, indeed, thank

you. The only object was to show the friends of the French that even

though it might require extreme measures, no demand that liberalism

could make would surprise us."

That sort of worldly wisdom was not to my taste.

The chairman then put the following resolution to a vote:

That we would remain true to the articles of confederation and to the

German cause, with all our means and at every sacrifice.

They shouted their approval with one voice; and now he closed the

meeting with a few cheerful remarks, announcing that we would adjourn

to the garden, where the beer was very good, and where there would be

no more speeches except the clinking of the mugs.

CHAPTER III.

"Father, you had better go home; you need sleep. I will accompany you

to our quarters, but I must return again, as they all insist upon my

doing so."

Ludwig and I took our way through the streets. They were still filled

with a surging crowd, and in front of the palace the entire guard was

under arms. They had evidently made preparations against a popular

disturbance.

When I arrived at the dwelling, Ludwig left me.

Annette was still awake, and informed me, as soon as I entered, that a

member of the cabinet had been there, had left word that I should come

to the palace that evening, and that if I would mention my name at the

left entrance I would be admitted. He had also said that, no matter how

late it was when I returned, I should not fail to come. I said that

there must have been some mistake--that they probably meant my son

Richard, or Ludwig; but Annette repeated that "Father Waldfried" had

been especially mentioned.

I replied that I was so tired that I would have to leave it until the

next day, but Annette thought that such a command must be implicitly

obeyed, and believed that the Prince himself desired to speak with me.

I repaired to the palace. The whole of the left wing was illuminated.

When I gave my name to the lackey at the foot of the staircase, he

called it out, and a secretary appeared and said, in a respectful

voice; "The Prince awaits you."

I pointed to my workday dress, but was assured that that made no

matter.

I ascended the staircase. On every hand there were guards. I was

conducted into a large saloon, where the secretary left me. He soon

reappeared, holding the door open and saying, "Please enter."

I went in. The Prince advanced to meet me, and took me by the hand,

saying: "I thank you sincerely for having come. I would gladly have

allowed you to rest overnight, but these times do not permit us to

rest. Pray be seated."

It was well that I was allowed to take a seat.

The Prince must have observed that I was almost out of breath, and

said: "Do not speak; you are quite exhausted. Permit me to tell you

that, in this trying hour, I repose full confidence in you. I have, for

a long while, desired to make your acquaintance. I have known your son,

the Professor, ever since he was at the university."

He added other highly complimentary remarks.

A pause ensued, during which I noticed, on the opposite wall, a picture

of the deceased Princess, who, as I had often heard, had been a great

benefactress to the country during the famine of 1817. This picture

revived my recollections of Gustava, and I felt as if I were not alone,

but as if she were with me.

All this passed through my mind during the few moments of silence.

The Prince went on to say that he had been informed of what I had said

an hour ago at the popular meeting. It had, for several days, been his

desire to act in union with me, but that he had entertained doubts on

various points,--among others as to whether I could attach myself to

him; and that the information he had just received had at last aided

him to form his conclusion.

"Excuse the question, but are you a republican?"

"I have sworn to support the government," was my answer.

"Are you a republican in theory?"

"In theory? The days of Pericles and Scipio are reflected in the soul

of every German who has received a classical education, and, logically

considered, a republic is the only form of free government. But neither

the life of nature, nor that of human history, is absolutely logical,

for actual necessity sets aside the systems erected by abstract

reason."

"That is well, and we shall, therefore, no doubt agree on all that

follows. But let me ask you one other question: Do you candidly and

heartily desire the continued existence of my sovereign dynasty?"

"Sovereign--no; dynasty--yes."

At these words the Prince arose from his seat, and hurriedly walked

across the floor. It seemed as if he involuntarily placed a distance

between himself and me. He remained standing in a dark corner of the

room.

There was a long pause, during which nothing broke the silence except

the ticking of the little clock on his table.

Such words had never been uttered in those halls. I had done my duty;

but I distrusted the Prince. Although suspicion is foreign to my

nature, his entire behavior aroused it in me. The Prince returned,

and stood opposite me, while he rested his clenched fist on his

writing-desk. The full light was streaming on his face.

"Explain yourself more fully," he said.

"Your Highness," I replied, "what I said to you was said after full

reflection."

"I feel assured of that; but speak out fearlessly."

"I have fought, thought, and lived for this during my whole lifetime.

If we are to gain a real Fatherland, the princes must relinquish their

claim to sovereignty: that belongs only to the whole.

"The growth of the idea of German unity has been in geometrical

progression. During the period of the rotten restoration, from the

battle of Leipzig down to 1830, those who entertained it might have

been counted by hundreds, or, at most, thousands, and they were to be

found only among the cultured or learned classes. After 1830, they were

counted by hundreds of thousands, and after 1848, by millions; and

to-day the thought of German unity is alive in all who know that they

are Germans.

"One system of laws within our borders, a united army, and united

representation in foreign lands. But the league of the states, that

through joy and sorrow have achieved unity for themselves, should be

faithfully preserved. The forest is one united whole, and yet every

tree has its individual life.

"Your Highness, I live near the borders. The obstinacy of the Vienna

congress has so cut up the country that we are obliged to go out of our

state to get salt. I have fields and woods beyond the boundary post,

and this has given rise to a thousand and one annoyances. Even the

protection of the forests, on which depends the life of our landed

interests, is obstructed by the diversity of laws. The hailstorm we had

last week paid no regard to boundary posts."

From the depths of my heart, I said: "Your dynasty, you and your house,

should remain our chief; but they should be subject to the greater

commonwealth."

"Subject?" said the Prince. He evidently expected that I would withdraw

or modify the word; but I felt that I could not do so.

And then he took my hand in his and said:

"I knew that these were your thoughts; I assumed as much. But I feel

grateful that you have allowed me to hear them from your own lips. Do

you believe that the majority of my--or our--people feel as you do?"

"No, I do not believe so. That is, they do not feel so to-day, but they

will to-morrow. Deeds--deeds of sacrifice--are the most powerful

instructors; they teach men what they should think, and even find a

voice for what has been slumbering in their souls, but which--through

pride and anger, or through want of courage--they have not even dared

to think of."

"You are not an enthusiast."

"I do not believe I am one. The people love the princes from force of

habit, and will be none the less glad to love them when reflection and

reason permit them to do so."

"Have you ever had the desire to occupy a position of authority under

the government?"

"Certainly; it was my greatest desire, and I believe--"

"You ought to be President of the ministry."

I replied that I was a practical farmer, and had never been in the

government service.

"Tell me how you have become what you are," said the Prince, taking a

seat opposite me.

CHAPTER IV.

"I shall gladly tell you all."

"The less reserve on your part, the greater my thanks."

"I was one of those who were persecuted on account of what at that time

was called demagogism.

"The soldier who guarded me--he is now a servant in my employ--informed

me that I had been sentenced to death, and offered to change clothes

with me, in order that I might escape. I refused the offer and

remained. We were not sentenced to death, but to imprisonment for ten

years. Ten years! A long, long night stared us in the face.

"Your Highness has taken me by the hand. Your father declared that he

would never voluntarily offer his hand to me or my confederates,

although it were necessary to do so if we meant to give him a pledge of

our allegiance.

"You cannot remember the circumstance.

"After being imprisoned for five years, we were pardoned, and I and two

of my prison-mates were elected members of the Parliament.

"The Jurists objected to our assuming the privileges of citizenship.

"The House which acknowledged our election was dissolved, naturally

enough, by Metternich's order. A new one met, and, as we had in the

meanwhile been re-elected, it confirmed the validity of our election.

Your father--I fully acknowledge his many acts of benevolence--was

obliged to extend his hand to us in order that we might take the oath.

"There are no words that fitly describe the wicked man who lived in the

imperial city, and to whom the sovereign German princes were obedient

subjects. In future days it will seem incredible, that, in obedience to

orders from Vienna, the German princes ordered our youth, under heavy

penalties, to desist from improving their physical strength by

gymnastic exercises.

"Perhaps you never knew that even singing clubs were forbidden, and

that officials who had been connected with them were regarded with

suspicion.

"Is it conceivable that a government which forbids physical development

by means of gymnastics, and spiritual elevation by means of song, can

for a moment have faith in its own stability?

"I am not easily moved to hatred; but, even now, the name of that man

fills me with indignation.

"What crime had we been guilty of? Why, only this: with a youthful

confidence in solemn promises, we had simply held fast to the idea that

Germany had freed itself from the Corsican yoke in order to become a

free, united empire.

"You cannot conceive, your Highness, how many noble-hearted men were

thrown into dungeons, or driven into exile in those days. Who can

measure what noble gifts ran to waste.

"When I think of these things, a sad picture presents itself to my

mind's eye.

"Among our fellow-prisoners at the fortress, there was a young man who

had already begun to lecture at the university.

"His father was an eminent philologist, and had been removed from his

professorship for permitting himself, while lecturing, to indulge in

expressions in favor of liberty. In a material sense, he was,

fortunately, well-to-do. His family owned a large estate in the forest

country, whither he repaired, taking with him his collections of

antiques and his books.

"The son sickened while in prison, and a wasting fever undermined his

youthful strength; and, as his days were numbered, the physician at the

fortress requested the authorities to release him.

"I have positive information--as the sister of that young man afterward

became my wife--that our Prince, your father, was willing to grant the

discharge. But, before it could be carried into effect, it was

necessary to ask for Metternich's permission--and Metternich refused

it.

"The commandant of the fortress held me in great esteem, and permitted

me, on his own responsibility, to be placed in the same cell with the

sick prisoner.

"I nursed him faithfully, and watched his every movement. I shall never

care to recall the thoughts that passed through my mind during the long

days, and still longer nights, that I passed at his bedside. He was

slowly sinking; for confinement was killing him, and yet no word of

complaint ever fell from his lips.

"His father came and--could you imagine it?--was not allowed to

converse with his son except in the presence of a guard.

"Then came his sister, only fifteen years old--but of that no matter at

present.

"The noble martyr died. He was buried in the village at the foot of the

fortress.

"While these things were going on, there was dancing and dining at

Court, and Metternich was writing witty _billet-doux_.

"You, of course, have never heard of these things.

"Through the bars of our prison, we could look out into the

fortress-yard and see the coffin placed on the wagon that was to carry

it to the grave. But why should I revive the anger and sense of

disgrace that filled our hearts at that moment? And who, on the other

hand, would have the right to condemn us prisoners if, when at last

free, we should indulge in deeds of vengeance?

"Your Highness will understand that I am only telling you of these

matters so that you may have an idea of the sacrifices that were made

to bring about the result which is now to be consummated through a

struggle of life and death."

"I know it--I know it well; pray go on."

I plucked up my courage and continued: "My parents died while I was a

prisoner. When I was at last discharged, I had lost all taste for a

clerical calling. I was down in the village standing by the smithy, saw

the blazing fire and watched the heavy hammers, and I yearned for just

such hard manual labor. I begged the smith to take me as his

apprentice, and he at once handed me a hammer. I was there but a week,

when the father of the young man who had died in prison came and took

me to his estate."

"And you married his daughter?"

"Yes."

"And does she still live?"

"No; she died, as I am unfortunately forced to believe, through grief

on account of the desertion of our youngest son just before the war of

1866."

"I know it, I know it. I hear that your son is serving in the French

army in Algiers? I know," he said, interrupting himself when he saw my

painful agitation, "what grief this son has caused you. If it were in

your power to send him word, he might, if he would deliver himself up

of his own will, be received back into the army with some trifling

punishment, and might afterward by his bravery distinguish himself, and

all would be well again. But, of course, at present, communication is

impossible either through diplomatic or private channels."

I was obliged to admit that I did not know of Ernst's whereabouts.

Strange it is how a poet's words will suddenly come to one's aid.

"My son is like a different man,'" said I, with the words taken from

the history of my friend; and I was myself astonished by the tone in

which I spoke. I had enough self-command to say that our present

troubles required that all should be united, and, that we should,

therefore, not complicate them by introducing our own personal

interests; nor did I conceal the fact that I had lived down my sorrow

on account of Ernst, and had almost ceased to be haunted by the thought

of him. It pained me, nevertheless, to listen to the well-rounded,

sentences in which the Prince praised the Roman virtue that indulged my

love of country at the expense of my feelings as a father. He seemed

pleased with this conceit of his, and repeated it frequently. I felt

quite disenchanted.

Thoughts of Ernst almost made me forget where I was, or what I was

saying, until the Prince requested me to resume my story, unless I

found it too fatiguing.

I continued:

"When I think of the times before 1830, I see opposed to each other

extravagant enthusiasm and impotence, courageous virtue and cowardly

vice, chaste and devoted faith in the ideal, and mockery, ridicule, and

frivolous disbelief in all that was noble--the one side cherishing

righteousness, the other scoffing at it. In other words, on the one

side, Uhland; on the other, Metternich.

"My relations with my family, with the community in which I lived, and

even in a wider circle, were happy enough. But the thought of my

distracted Fatherland remained, and filled my heart with grief that

could not be assuaged. I lived and suffered for the general good, and

my associates did the like; but the storm-cloud was always impending

over us, and we were obliged to learn how to go about our daily work

with fresh and cheerful hearts, although danger threatened; to be

patient for the sake of the people, and to look into our own hearts for

strength.

"The best men of our Fatherland were deeply anxious to be up and doing,

but we were condemned to the worst lot of all: a life-long opposition.

"While we were languishing for healthy political action, our minds were

filled with a bitter and consuming protest against the miserable

condition of our affairs.

"It is hard when one's whole being is in conflict with his

surroundings."

I went on to tell him of the great hopes that the spring of 1848 had

inspired us with, and that I, too, had had the good fortune to be

permitted to assist in building up the great Fatherland, and to have

been in the confidence of the best men of my time. I told him of the

sad days when our so-called "Rump Parliament" was dispersed by the

soldiers, and also spoke of my son Ludwig.

"I understand that your son has become a man of great ability and force

of character, and that he distinguished himself in the war with the

slave States?" said the Prince.

I was surprised to find how well he was informed.

And then the Prince added, in an animated voice: "You are an

enthusiastic friend of Prussia?"

"I am; for in Prussia I recognize the backbone of our national

existence; she is not prepossessing, but steadfast and reliable.

"I lived at the time of the war of liberation; many who were of my age

took part in the war that saved us. Our section stood with Napoleon,

but Prussia saved Germany. She has dallied a great while before

claiming her reward for that service; but at last she receives it."

The Prince arose, and, resting both hands on his writing-table, said,

"That is the very reason I sent for you. Both they and we--both high

and low--must extinguish the memories of 1866. We have all much to

forgive, and much to learn."

And then the Prince asked me whether I believed that the majority of

the House of Delegates agreed with us?

I was obliged to express my doubts on that head.

"I have made up my mind, however," exclaimed the Prince, "whether the

delegates agree with me, or otherwise. You are an old, tried soldier.

Are you ready to ally yourself with me--no, not with me--with the

Fatherland?"

"How?"

"Call it a _coup d'etat_, if you choose--we dare not let names frighten

us--these are times in which legal forms must be disregarded. Are you

willing to accept the presidency of my cabinet, so that your fair name

may lend its lustre to my actions? You shall bear testimony to my love

of country."

"I am willing, your Highness, to sacrifice the short span of life that

is yet left me; but I am not an adept in state affairs."

"That is no matter; others will attend to that. What I require is the

moral influence of your presence. Your son-in-law, Colonel Karsten, is

willing to accept the portfolio of Secretary of War."

I informed the Prince that I would be obliged to insist on important

conditions: not from distrust of him, but of his noble associates who

had deserted us in 1848, and had used us liberals as cat's-paws.

I told him that, in my opinion, Germany would either emerge from this

war as a great power, or disappear from the roll of nations.

"We hope for the best, and we must conquer, for defeat would be

destruction."

As a first condition, I requested the Prince to give me a written

assurance that he resigned all privileges which would interfere with

German unity.

He smiled. I do not know whether it was in scorn, or whether he had not

heard my last words. He rose, placed his hand on my shoulder, and said,

"You are a good man."

I, too, was obliged to smile, and answered, "What else should I be,

your Highness?"

"Is not what you demand of me equivalent to an abdication?"

"No; it is nothing more than retiring to the position held by the

princes before domestic dissensions enabled Louis XIV. to wrest Alsace

and Lorraine from the German Empire."

It was with an air of embarrassment that the Prince said:

"Here is my hand. I have a right to do this, and desire to be the first

to hail the victorious King of Prussia as Emperor."

The Prince touched a bell, and a lackey entered, whom he told to bid

Colonel Karsten come.

My son-in-law Minister of War, and I president of the cabinet! Was it

all a dream? My eye fell on the picture of the deceased Princess, and

it seemed to resemble Gustava and to smile upon me.

The Colonel entered. He remained standing, in the erect attitude of a

soldier.

The Prince informed him, in a few words, that we agreed with each

other, and submitted a proclamation with which the Chamber was to be

dissolved, in case the majority should decide for neutrality. For the

present, this was to be kept a secret.

The Prince then withdrew.

Arm in arm with my son-in-law, I returned to my dwelling.

To think of all that had happened to me during that one day

Could this be myself? I could scarcely collect my senses.

Ludwig had not returned, and I was almost glad that it was so, for I

was not permitted to reveal what had been secretly determined on.

Martella was still awake. She came to meet me with the words:

"Father, you have heard news of Ernst. Did the Prince give you his

pardon?"

I could not conceive how the child could have had this presentiment,

and when I asked her, she told me that a brother of the porter at

Annette's house had returned from Algiers and had told her about Ernst.

I could not enter into Martella's plans. What mattered the life of a

son, or the yearning affection of a girl? I scarcely heard what she

said--my heart was filled to overflowing; there was no room left for

other cares.

One memory was revived. Years ago, the Privy Councillor had told me

that I was well thought of at court. At that time it was scarcely

probable. But could it have been true, after all?

Morning was dawning when I reached my bed. I felt that I would never

again be able to sleep, and only wished that I might live a few days

longer, so that, if nothing else was left, I might plunge myself into

the yawning abyss for the sake of my country.

It was fortunate that the session was not to begin until noon. I slept

until I was called.

CHAPTER V.

The Colonel came and told me that the troops were under orders.

I was startled. I shuddered at the idea of using force against our

fellow-citizens, and felt as if I could by my own strength, oppose and

conquer the demon of dissension. I felt assured that I must succeed,

and as confident as if success had already been achieved.

Ludwig accompanied me through the streets; they were even more crowded

than on the day before.

Annette and Martella had preceded us, in order to secure good seats. It

was with difficulty that we forced our way through the crowd. Ludwig

was obliged to shake hands with many whom we met, and was often greeted

by men whom he did not recognize, and who seemed annoyed that, in spite

of the changes that twenty-one years had made in them, he did not at

once address them by their names.

A company of soldiers were mounting guard before, the House of

Parliament. Ernst Rontheim, son of the Privy Councillor, was in

command. He saluted me in military fashion.

I gazed upon the vigorous youth, with his ruddy face and bright eyes,

and asked myself: "Will he this very day be forced to command his

troops to fire upon his fellow-citizens?" Did he know how full of

danger his post was? It required a great effort, on my part, to refrain

from speaking to him. At that moment, the minister of war arrived, and

the young officer called out, "Present arms!"

In the ante-chamber, and in the restaurant attached to the House, there

were many groups engaged in lively and animated discussions, in which

the speakers accompanied their remarks by forcible gesticulations.

The three members who had been fellow-prisoners o f mine at the

fortress, were still faithfully attached to me. The one whom we had

termed "The Philosopher" had distinguished himself by new theories in

political science, and the other two were eminent lawyers.

Only one of the members of the old student corps had gone over to the

radicals, but he was recognized as the most independent and the purest

of men, and was everywhere spoken of as "Cato."

The others had remained true to our colors; and one who was known as

Baribal called out "What! Bismarck? If that black devil will bring

about union, I shall sell my soul to him!"

I spoke with "Cato," when no others were by, and he frankly confessed

that he feared that this war would strengthen monarchism, and that,

therefore, he still was, and ever would be, a republican.

"We have, thus far, been forced to act against our wishes, and have

complained in secret," he said, "but if we conquer in this war, we

shall have voluntarily become subjects, and be happy in the favor of

their high mightinesses. I am not a subject, and do not wish to become

one."

He gave me a fierce look, and I felt obliged to tell him that he could

not be at his ease while receiving honors from people whom he despised.

He did not feel that war was inevitable, but was inclined to favor it,

if the German princes would promise that the constitution of the German

Empire, as proposed in the Frankfort Parliament, would be adopted in

the event of our success.

"Cato" assured me that even if we were to bring about a union, it would

be such only in name. Organic life cannot become a harmonious whole

unless there is freedom of action; and therefore, we must, first of

all, insist on guarantees for freedom.

"Why do you," said he in conclusion, "who aided and abetted the

Frankfort Parliament, never mention it?"

When I told him that this was political orthodoxy, he paid no regard to

what I said.

Funk once furtively looked towards me, and then turned to his neighbor,

with whom he conversed in a low voice.

Various members who, it was evident, desired to take the lead, were

walking up and down absorbed in thought.

I heard that telegrams had been received to the effect that France

would not consent to further delay, and insisted that all must be

absolutely neutral or else avowedly take sides.

Loedinger, my former prison-mate, approached me and said that it would

be necessary to prevent any conclusion being reached on that day, and

that we should govern ourselves by the course that the neighboring

state decided upon.

I asked him whether the party had determined on this. He said, "No,"

and told me that his only object was to bring about a postponement in

case the probable issue seemed adverse to us.

I felt that this would be impossible. I entered the chamber more

agitated than I have ever been. I had never in all my life been obliged

to conceal anything, and now I had to face my associates with a weighty

secret on my mind. I saw the ministers enter and take their seats, and

could not help thinking, "You will soon be seated there."

One minister whom we knew to be of our party came down to where I was

sitting and shook hands with me. He spoke with confidence and

hopefulness.

I noticed Funk pointing at me, and could hear the loud laughter that

followed on the part of the group that surrounded him.

The President took his seat; the ringing of the bell agitated me; the

decisive moment approached.

I looked up. Annette nodded to me. Richard was seated at her side.

I was obliged to drive out all roving thoughts, for it was now

necessary to concentrate all my energies on one object.

The proceedings began. My friend Loedinger, who had been seated at my

side, was the first speaker, and supported the motion in favor of

taking the field. He spoke with great fervor, and invoked the spirits

of those who had gone before us.

"Would that the mighty spirits of the past could descend to us this

day," were his words, while his own utterances were those of a spirit

pure and beyond reproach. When he finished his remarks, a storm of

applause followed. I grasped his hand; it was cold as ice.

Funk requested the President to preserve order in the galleries, and

said that this was not a Turners' festival.

The President reminded him that he knew his duty, and meant to perform

it, and that Funk, in his eagerness, had only anticipated him.

The next speaker was "Cato." He unearthed all the grievances that

Prussia had inflicted on the patriots. He called on the spirits of

those who had fallen during the war of 1866, and said they might well

ask those who now counselled aiding Prussia, "Are you willing to stand

side by side with those who murdered us in a fratricidal war?"

When he closed, it was evident that his words had deeply moved the

assembly.

I was the next to have the floor, and explained that, although brothers

may quarrel among themselves, they are brethren nevertheless, and that,

when an insolent neighbor endeavors to invade and destroy their home,

they must unite to defend it. Addressing my opponents, I exclaimed,

"You know full well what the decision will be, and I am loth to believe

that you desire to embarrass or disgrace it by opposition and

dissension."

Great excitement followed this remark, and prevented me from going on.

I was called to order, but the President decided that my remarks had

not been personal.

I endeavored to keep calm, and to weigh every word before uttering it.

In spite of this resolution, I forgot myself, and aroused a perfect

storm of anger, when I expressed my deepest convictions in the

following words:

"You who are seated on the other side do not believe in neutrality. Ask

yourselves whether this be an honest game that you are playing.

Neutrality is a hypocritical word which, translated into honest German,

means willingness to aid France, a Rhenish confederation, and treason

to the Fatherland!"

I was called to order and was obliged to admit that I had gone a little

too far.

The President interrupted the debate, and inquired whether the Chamber

would permit him to read a telegram which had just been received, and

was of some importance in relation to the subject under consideration.

"No! No!" "We are debating this among ourselves!" "Our deliberations

must be free and untrammelled!" "No outside parties have a right to

interfere!" cried the one side.

"Yes! Yes!" "Let us have it!" "Read it to us!" cried the others, and

all was confusion.

The President at last restored order, and then informed us that the

telegram was from the House of Parliament of the neighboring state. He

desired to know whether he might read it to the assembly. He would

permit no debate on the subject; those who were in favor of the

reading, would simply rise.

The majority arose, and Loedinger was almost trembling with emotion

when he grasped my hand and said, "Brother, the day is ours!"

The President read the telegram. It was to the effect that a small

though decided majority of the Parliament of the next state had

determined that their forces should take the field.

Then followed, both on the floor and in the galleries, a few moments of

terrible confusion and excitement.

Order was at last restored, and the President announced that the

business would now be proceeded with.

I had the floor.

"Make no speech--ask for a vote at once," said Loedinger, as I arose. I

acted on his advice.

The vote was taken; the majority was ours.

Loud shouts of joy filled the air, but I felt happier than all the

rest. I had been saved from a fearful danger.

Annette's carriage stood in a by-street, awaiting us. We rode to our

dwelling, and, when I reached there, I felt like one who, after long

and weary wandering over hill and dale, can at last sit down and

rest. And while I sat there, with myriad thoughts passing through my

brain, I could not help thinking, "The dream of my youth has repeated

itself--they only tried the mantle on me."

Shortly after that, Ludwig returned home to join his wife and to look

after his workmen.

CHAPTER VI.

How often we had yearned for unity of feeling, and an interchange of

sympathy with our compatriots! How sad it was to keep in our path with

the knowledge that the feelings and aspirations of those whom we met

had nothing in common with our own!

The unity of feeling had at last been brought about. Every street had

become as a hall of the great temple in which love of country testified

its readiness to sacrifice itself. Every valley resounded with the

joyful message, "Awake! Our Fatherland has arisen in its might! Hasten!

for the battle is not yet over. The soul of him who falls will live on

in the comrade who marched at his side. Now none can live for himself

alone, but for the one great cause."

After my sad bereavement, life had ceased to be aught but duty, and I

would have been ready, at any time, calmly to leave the world. But now

my only desire was to live long enough to witness the fruition of the

hopes which, during my whole life, had filled my soul.

My children and grandchildren, each in his own way, showed their love

of country.

Society at large was now like one great family, united in sentiment.

The vicar was the first of my family to visit me. He came to offer his

services as chaplain to the troops. Julius followed soon after. It had

gone hard with him to leave his wife, but he was happy to know that he

could at last serve his country. It moved me deeply when he told me of

the courage and resignation his wife had shown at parting. He was

accompanied by his brother-in-law, the lieutenant, who joyously

confessed that he was filled with hopes of glory and rapid advancement.

He drew his sword a few inches from its scabbard, and said, "This blade

has lost patience--it is all athirst."

My grandson Wolfgang returned from the forester's school.

"Grandfather, have my pine-seeds sprouted?" was his first question.

"They do not grow so fast, my child; the bed is still covered with

brushwood."

He wanted to enter the army as a volunteer, and was quite sad when we

told him that foreigners would not be accepted, and that it would,

moreover, take a good while before he could learn the drill. He could

with difficulty reconcile himself to the fact that he was not permitted

to take part in the war, and with a voice full of emotion, exclaimed,

"Although my name is growing on its soil, I am not allowed to fight for

Germany!"

Wolfgang was accompanied by Annette's nephew, the son of Offenheimer

the lawyer. He desired to offer his services as a volunteer. He was a

comrade of Wolfgang's, and a student in the agricultural department of

the forester's school. His face was marked by several scars, and

although he was not of a quarrelsome disposition, he had been in

several duels. He had served in the Young Guard, which, during the past

few years, had been recruited from the students of Gymnasiums and

polytechnic schools.

I inquired whether his father consented to his entering the service,

and he answered me in the affirmative.

Shortly afterward, his father entered the room. In a few words he told

us that he had expected this war, and then, turning to his sister, he

remarked that his son Alfred had entered the regiment which had

formerly been the Captain's, as Colonel Karsten could not take him in

his regiment. He also told me that he had fully determined, in case the

war resulted in our favor, to withdraw from practice, and to devote

himself to public affairs.

Offenheimer was an able, clear-minded man, of liberal opinions, and

free from prejudice; and yet it seemed as if this vow of his had been

made in order to assure himself of the success of our cause and the

preservation of his only son.

Annette had always observed a certain distance with her kindred, and

was, indeed, kinder to Martella than to her own nephew. But now, the

war and the unanimity of feeling which it had induced, seemed, even in

her case, to awaken new sympathies.

On the following morning, when I was preparing for my journey homeward,

a messenger came from the palace to inform me that the Prince required

my presence. And now I went, in bright daylight and with a peaceful

soul, to the same place that I had approached during the night,

ignorant of what was in store for me. I was happy to know that the

serious charge, which I was hardly fitted to undertake, had not been

imposed on me, and I was, at the same time, encouraged by the feeling

that I had shown my willingness to do all in my power.

On the staircase, I met the French ambassador, who had just received

his parting audience; and thus I saw the last French ambassador who

witnessed our dissensions.

The antechamber of the Prince's apartments was full of life and bustle.

Adjutants and orderlies were constantly coming and going.

I saw my son-in-law, but only for a few moments. He shook me by the

hand, and said, "My regiment marches through your valley; I shall see

you again at home."

I was called into the Prince's presence. His cheeks were flushed and

his eye sparkled. He took me by the hand and said: "I can only briefly

thank you. I shall never forget your fidelity and your candor.

Unfortunately, I can be of no service to you, for you need no favors;

but my heart shall ever be filled with gratitude to you."

His kind words so moved me that I was unable to utter a word in reply,

and the Prince continued: "Like you, I am forced to remain at home. It

is well and proper that princely rank does not require its possessor to

command his armies. Leaders have been selected, from whom we have a

right to look for the greatest results with the least bloodshed. Excuse

me; I regret that I cannot speak with you any longer. I shall be glad

to have you visit me soon again."

He shook hands with me again, and I was about to withdraw in silence,

when a lackey entered and said that a daughter of mine had requested to

see the Prince, and begged that she might speak with me in his

presence.

"Let her enter. You had better remain here, Herr Waldfried."

CHAPTER VII.

The door was opened and in rushed Martella, who threw herself on her

knees at the Prince's feet and exclaimed: "Your Highness, Prince by the

grace of God, be gracious and merciful! Give me my betrothed, my Ernst!

I shall not rise from this spot until you have restored him to me

again!"

The Prince gazed at me in surprise, and I told him that this was

Ernst's betrothed.

The Prince extended his hand to Martella. She kissed it and covered it

with tears, when he said to her:

"I shall do all that I can."

"Oh, God is gracious to you! you are all-powerful. O how happy you are

that you can do all these things! I knew it!"

The Prince said that he was occupied at the moment; that she might go,

and he would attend to all that was necessary afterwards.

"No, no!" cried Martella; "not so. I shall not leave in that way. Now

is the right time. Let the whole world wait until this is done."

"I have already informed his father that the deserter will receive but

a mild punishment, if he now returns and helps us to fight for our

Fatherland."

"Yes, yes; I believe all that; but I must have it in writing, with a

great seal under it, or else it is of no avail, and your subordinates

will not respect it.

"O Prince! the winter before the fearful war you were hunting in the

district to which my Ernst belonged, and he had much to tell me about

you; and he said that, if one considered how you had been spoiled, it

was wonderful to find our Prince so well behaved, so just and upright a

man.

"And Rothfuss said, 'In such a war as that of 1866, the Prince would

have been just as willing to desert as Ernst was, if he only could have

done so; but he could not get away.'"

The Prince gave me a look full of meaning, while a sad smile played on

his lips. Suddenly he turned to Martella and asked, "And do you know

where your lover is?"

"Yes; he is with the savages in Algiers. He, too, was a savage, but, by

this time, he must have become tamed. O Prince! give me the writing,

and what you write will be set down to your credit in heaven!"

The Prince seated himself, and then looked up from his desk and asked,

"But what will you do with this letter of pardon?"

"Let your gracious Highness leave that to me. Just you write--and

blessed be the pen and the ink and your hand--"

I implored her to remain quiet, so that the Prince could write, and she

grasped my hand with one of hers, and with her other pointed towards

the Prince's pen and moved her finger as if following its every stroke.

When the Prince bad finished writing, he lit a lamp, and Martella

exclaimed: "Oh, if Ernst were only here, that he might thank you! But

mother, who is above, knows of this already, and joins me in thanking

you."

Her vigor and beauty, her touching voice, the powerful and dazzling

brilliancy of her eyes, all seemed as if increased by an irresistible

charm.

The Prince attached the seal to the document and handed it to her with

the words, "I wish you success;" and, turning to me, added, "I am glad,

at all events, that I have been able to be of some service to you."

Martella was about to kneel to him again, but he begged her to

withdraw.

We went through the antechamber and down the steps, and, when we

reached the foot of the staircase, Martella suddenly stopped and said:

"I have something in which I can keep the letter of pardon. I still

have the embroidered satchel, but now I will put in it something better

and sweeter than the cake it once held."

When we left, the guard was just marching up to the palace, and the

band was playing "Die Wacht am Rhein." A crowd extending farther than

the eye could reach joined in the song, and Martella exclaimed, "The

whole world is singing while--" and then her clear voice helped to

swell the chorus.

No one was happier at Martella's good fortune than Annette, who, to

give vent to her joy, overwhelmed Martella with presents.

Richard rushed into the room, exclaiming, "The Crown-Prince of Prussia

has been appointed commander of the South German forces!" His face

beamed with emotion, and he triumphantly declared that this would seal

the union of North and South Germany.

Although the younger members of my family were full of ardent courage,

Richard had more determination and elasticity of spirit than any of

them. We had at one time mockingly called him "Old Negligence." But he

was no longer the man who procrastinated in all things, and who, while

conscientious withal, was nevertheless so swayed by a thousand

imaginary obstacles that it was difficult for him to make up his mind

on any subject. He told us that he had offered to accompany the

commander of our army; he had written enough of history in dead

letters, and now he was anxious to witness living history, and perhaps

to assist in making it.

Annette had ordered the servant to bring wine, and Richard exclaimed:

"O father! it has come at last. Self-reliance now fills every heart,

and that is the rock of safety for the whole nation. I see it now; a

new element has entered our German world--a feeling that we are all

one. It is not a mere conglomerate of many thousand individuals; it is

something quite new and exalted--a divine revelation--the fire of pure

patriotism. We stand in the midst of a pillar of fire; every individual

is a spark; of no value by itself, but only as a portion of the pillar

of fire."

Richard's tall and commanding form trembled with emotion.

Annette placed her hand upon her heart and exclaimed, "And I too--I

too."

She had stretched forth her hand, but suddenly cast her eyes upon the

picture of her dead husband, and buried her face in her hands.

After a short pause, she said to Richard:

"Your mother announced this to me. 'He will live to see the day,' she

said, 'on which great things will happen to the world and to you all.'

I did not understand her words then, but now I believe I understand

them."

Richard replied, "How strange it is that you should be thinking of

mother at this moment; for I was thinking of her at the same time.

"Ah, father, when mother asked for water from her spring, and I ran

through the village down into the valley, and was nothing but a child

running to fetch a draught that would cool her parched lips and,

perhaps, save her, I could not, at times, help thinking of the story

told by Apuleius--how Psyche was obliged to bring water from the rocky

springs of the Styx.

"And, father, hard and puzzling as it then was to understand how trees

and houses could exist, and that men were working in the fields, while

the breath of life was flickering and expiring--now, all is clear

to my vision. I shall go off with the army; and if I can do nothing

more, I will, at all events, endeavor to refresh the spiritual and

physical wants of the children of the Fatherland for the sake of our

mother--unity. It would be glorious and happy to die when filled with

such emotions; but it is more genuine and more brave to persevere in

small services and sacrifices."

Annette, with her hands clasped upon her breast, gazed at Richard.

Bertha entered the room at that moment, and, by her presence, brought

about a calmer and serener atmosphere than we had just been moving in.

Bertha, four years before, had been full of unrest; but now, her calm,

equable disposition manifested itself in all its beauty.