The Shadow of Doom.
In Walter's chamber a bright light was also burning, but upon his
entrance, he found no one there but Frederic.
"Doctor Behrend has been here the whole time," he said, "and he waited
a long while for you; but he has been summoned over to the village. I
believe Corporal Braun is in a very bad state."
Walter seemed unpleasantly surprised at these tidings. "Has Doctor
Behrend gone? he asked. I wished very much to speak with him."
"The doctor wished it too. He said I should have ready your cloak and
your pistols, as you were to go away this evening, and would not take
me with you this time as usual when you go out on patrol duty."
"No, Frederic, not this time," said Walter absently. He paced several
times up and down, then he halted suddenly. "It is all the same
now!" he murmured. "Why not tell him what I was going to confide to
Robert?--Frederic!"
"Herr Lieutenant!"
"It is possible an attack may be made to-night. Have you received
orders to be ready for an alarm?"
"Yes, at ten o'clock with two men I am to patrol the park. It is for
the sake of security, the captain says, because it is not guarded."
"Very well! In any event you will see the doctor before this. It was
very necessary that I should speak with him, but I must go, and I have
no time to seek him in the village. You will deliver my errand word for
word, just as I tell you; but to him alone, and no other. Do you hear?"
"To no other!"
The next words were very difficult ones for Walter to speak. He
struggled with himself for some moments.
"If it should come to a conflict, he is the only one who will not have
to take a part in it, and the French sharp-shooters around here are a
barbarous horde to whom nothing is sacred. He must protect Miss Forest
so far as lies in his power."
"The American Miss?" returned Frederic slowly.
"Yes!" Walter again hesitated, but then all at once the words broke
hasty and ardent, from his lips. "Tell him I demand it of him as a last
duty of friendship. Miss Forest has been to me the one dearest in the
wide world! He shall guard her if he must, with his life!"
Frederic stood there dumb with consternation. This then was the
solution of that mysterious hostility between his master and the
American Miss! The poor fellow's head began to swim; he was quite
incapable of understanding the relation of things.
"You must repeat this word for word!"
"I am at your command, Herr Lieutenant!" answered Frederic
mechanically. He stood there as if rooted to his place, and saw his
master examine the pistols and throw on the cloak. When he had arrived
at the door, Frederic rushed after him.
"Herr Professor!"
Walter paused and glanced around. During the whole war, Frederic had
not called him by this name, he had never forgotten the military title
of his master, which it had always been his highest delight to
emphasize as much as possible. How had this souvenir of B. all at once
occurred to him? Surprised at the old familiar name unheard so long,
Fernow gazed in the face of his former servant. It was fearfully pale,
and there lay a strange repose in the usually expressionless features.
"Herr Professor"--there was a tone of anguished entreaty in the
question--"must you really go quite alone? Can you not take me with
you--certainly not?"
"No, I cannot!" said Walter gravely. "What has come over you all at
once, Frederic? You have a duty to perform to-night and so have I; to
such duties we have both become accustomed since the war."
Frederic heaved a sigh. "I do not know why it is, but, during the whole
war I have not felt as I feel to-night. Now, when you are about to go,
an icy shudder passes through me. Herr Professor," he broke out
suddenly and despairingly, "I certainly shall never see you again!"
Walter gazed silently up to him. How strange it was! even this robust,
thoroughly healthy nature, usually so unsusceptible to mental
influences, at this moment seemed over-powered by a presentiment! Was
it love for his master that gave him this instinct? He sought to guard
himself against showing any weakness, he knew that the slightest token
of weakness would quite rob the giant soldier before him of the little
self-possession left him, and transform him into a sobbing child.
"You are out of your senses!" he said half displeased, and with a faint
attempt to laugh. "Is this the first time that I have gone into danger?
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Frederic! I really believe you are
weeping."
Frederic did not answer, but he kept his clear-blue eyes fixed
immovably on his master's face; at this moment, with a gift of
introspection wonderfully enhanced, he saw that Fernow's glance did not
accord with his words; he saw separation in it, and all subordination,
all the military usage which for months long he had conscientiously
observed, suddenly vanished; he saw before him only his professor whom
he had so often nursed in illness, whom he had watched and guarded as a
mother guards her child, who to him had been the one goal, the one
object of life. He sobbed aloud, and a stream of tears gushed from his
eyes.
"Herr Professor," he cried piteously, "would to God I could be shot
down instead of you! A calamity is to happen to-night; I know it. One
of us will certainly fall."
Walter smiled sadly and gently; he felt who this one would be; but the
touching devotion of his servant in his parting hour, asserted its
right. He now forgot all else, but not those long nights of illness
during which Frederic had sat at his bedside, with a fidelity and
self-renunciation he could never repay and never forget, and--in such a
moment all arbitrary barriers fall, all chasms are bridged over--the
officer threw his arms around his servant's neck and then warmly and
affectionately pressed his hand. "Good-night, Frederic," he said
softly, "Good-by! Whatever may happen to me, your future is provided
for. Doctor Stephen has the requisite papers in his hands. And now--"
he hastily drew himself up "now let me go, it must be!"
Frederic obeyed. He hesitatingly let go the hand which he had held in
both of his, and stepped back. Once again Walter waved him an adieu,
and then hurried from the room. With bowed head, the poor fellow stole
to a window. He saw enveloped in its military cloak the tall figure
which, clearly defined in the moonlight, strode over the terrace; he
heard the step grow fainter and fainter in the distance, until its last
echo died away. Regretful tears gushed anew from his eyes; with
incontestable certainty, he felt that he had seen his master for the
last time.