"I will arise, and in the strength of love,
Pursue the bright track ere it fade away--
My Savior's pathway to his home above."
--KEBLE.
Sibylla had remained at Berlin. She was neither calm nor inactive,
but full of appreciation for the enthusiasm that had called her
husband to the battle-field. Had she been a man she would have gone
with him, and regarded it no sacrifice. As it was, if he had left
the decision of going or remaining to her, she would have said "yes."
Wulf's practice was in charge of an old physician. Theodora had
again entered upon her beloved hospital work. She had been one of
the first sent to the seat of war, and no one more competent could
have been found.
Sibylla missed her friend sadly; but she exerted her utmost to
fulfill her husband's intentions, then supplement all the remaining
time to care for the wounded. It was a great satisfaction to her to
witness the change which had taken place in the city. Where once had
been superficiality and a chase after pleasure, one great idea, one
noble aim, one grand sympathy, thrilled all hearts now, and the
stupendous war produced a joyous self-sacrifice which was truly
elevating.
Rich and poor brought their gifts; old pensioned men and delicate
young women proffered willingly their services wherever they were
available, and each one endeavored to emulate the other to prove his
whole-souled interest in the occasion.
At one time a battalion of soldiers, belonging to the sanitary
commission, passed slowly and with difficulty by one of the city
markets. The fruit-women left their stands, seized their baskets of
fruit and hastened to distribute them among the soldiers. The
vegetable vendors looked over their stalls. Evidently they had
nothing suitable for refreshment; yes, there were the turnips; and
these were quickly transferred to the men. A loud "hurra!" went up
as thanks; and, wiping their eyes with their aprons, the brave women
resumed their positions.
Sometimes Sibylla purchased hospital supplies, etc. Every merchant
gave his wares at lower rates; and often when it was difficult to
pass through a crowd of people in her overloaded droschke, the cry of
some one, "For our soldiers!" soon opened the way.
How often Sibylla thought of her dear husband in these days! He who
had lamented so often the degradation of the common people, how he
would have rejoiced over their transformation, their nobility, their
advancement! She knew he would have gained new courage. The common
people are not worthless; there is a good germ in them, that is shown
frequently, when they sacrifice their all, joyfully, for the sake of
their country's honor.
But Wulf was far away, and Sibylla knew he had many deprivations to
undergo. She thought of her own comforts with regret; but she was
animated to do still greater things. O, any thing, rather than allow
her hands to be folded idly in her lap!
The interest of the women in patriotic love-service was one so
universal that soon there was no want of helpers. Sibylla,
therefore, turned her attention to other work, and found rich
opportunities for devoting all her means and time.
Among the poorer class of her husband's patients she discovered many
families whose financial support was deeply concerned in the war.
Where the provider had not gone to the field, his source of industry
often ceased, as business in general was depressed. Here Sibylla's
friendly visits, words of counsel and comfort, and open purse were
welcomed; and while she directed many anxious wives to God, who alone
could protect their husbands, she herself drew more and more
refreshment from the Spring whose water has all fullness.
This activity and reading of three different kinds constituted her
life; the Bible, Wulf's letters, and the newspapers forming her
recreation. "I can not read any thing else now," she said.
But alas! after a time her husband's letters were not forthcoming. A
battle had taken place, where he had doubtless been engaged, and if
not actually in the fray, he was in great peril; then, there was no
communication whatever
All her acquaintances had received direct tidings from their loved
ones, except Sibylla. True a letter might be delayed for a week, or
even miscarried; this was her hope.
Eight days had slowly passed. All Sibylla's efforts to learn
something of her husband were fruitless. She trembled when the
door-bell rang. Should one of her own letters be returned to her
with the words: "Person addressed, dead!"
Whoever has experienced the agony of suspense at such a time, will
appreciate Sibylla's suffering; but when no one can offer consolation
longer, the heart clings closer to its Heavenly Father, and is more
deeply rooted in his infinite mercy.
One evening the bell rang. Sibylla's pulse almost ceased to beat.
Was it another tone than usual that would pronounce her fate? She
listened. There were unfamiliar voices. The servant entered with
two cards: Baron Arnold Von Kahring; Baroness Albertina Von Kahring.
As a dream these names seemed now to Sibylla, and she was obliged to
control herself, for since her marriage to Herr Bolton she had not
seen them.
The Kahrings entered. How changed! revealed the first glance.
Arnold, with manly, decisive expression, from which all trace of
former _ennui_ had disappeared; his wife, wholly free from the
haughty inflexibility of her earlier days. Sibylla was delighted to
see them, and deeply interested to know they had escaped from Paris.
But what were her feelings when, after a brief preliminary talk, she
learned that they had seen Wulf, that they had left him two days
previously at a little village on the border, where he lay ill!
Question upon question, answer after answer! Great God! he lives.
He is, indeed, ill with a light nervous fever, but there are good
prospects for recovery! He longed to see his wife, in his conscious
moments. That was the news which Sibylla received.
"When can I start?" she asked.
"To-morrow early, under my escort," replied Arnold, as he laid before
her the plans he had formed for both. Sibylla perceived that she
would soonest reach Wulf by following them, and her heart grew calm.
She was now able to learn all the details of the meeting between Wulf
and the Kahrings, as well as all that had happened to the latter
since their removal.
"I should have left Paris immediately," said Arnold, "when the first
news of the outbreak reached us; but I am really indebted to Paris
and the many reverses of fortune experienced there, for I have
learned to love and to work. My wife and two children have rescued
me from the flippant idea I had of life; and I learned to prize for
the first time, at Paris, what here I once detested--German fidelity
and kindliness of disposition. When the war was declared I had only
one desire: to return to Berlin, enter the army, and to educate my
children in the Father land, that they might be reared among sterling
principles and leave behind them honest reputations. I have been so
many years out of the regular army that I only hoped for a position
as private soldier.
"But my wife's illness prevented the accomplishment of my wishes. I
was obliged to remain there, and with indignation in my soul look
upon the profligate behavior of the French. No patriotism, no
enthusiasm, as I understand the sentiment--only words, insincerity,
show! Therefore my residence among them, with their outspoken hatred
of the Prussians, was not only unpleasant, but really very dangerous.
"Already many Germans had been banished, and I was forced to expect
the same fate for myself. I employed the time, so far as possible,
in arranging my affairs, and when the order came in legal form for me
to leave, my wife had, happily, so far recovered as to make the
journey possible, if not comfortable. The hatred of the rabble alone
had reached such a degree, owing to the shameful incitement of the
daily press, that we were obliged to leave our home by night, if we
would escape the grossest insults. Our departure was more a flight
than a journey. The railroads were overflowing. We endeavored in
vain to secure transit; but the great burden of transporting the
military, the flight of the wealthy residents from Paris, caused us
to be everywhere driven back. To return home was not feasible.
Finally, by paying a large sum of money, I secured a wagon; but I
shall spare you the recital of the difficulties that further beset us.
"We reached the German army at last in a roundabout way, actually
obliged to sneak forward like criminals. We halted one morning at a
small village, but could not find accommodation, as the wounded lay
everywhere. Conversing with some officers, they asked whether I
would take with me to the next village a physician who had fallen ill
that day. They added that soldiers of their company had just found
him in an adjacent wood, half buried in a marsh, and so feeble as to
be unable to extricate himself.
"I consented, but you may imagine my astonishment when they brought
Wulf Ericksen to my wagon. He recognized me, although violently
feverish.
"We reached the next town toward evening; but it was also filled with
troops and stripped of provisions, so that we were forced to travel
farther, and finally halted at a friendly spot on the frontier.
Wulf's condition demanded our greatest care. We carried him to an
inn, and hurriedly summoned a physician, who forbade further
transport. Mental excitement and physical over-exertion had produced
nervous fever, but he believed his strong constitution, to all
appearances, would soon overcome the disease. When he learned Wulf
was a physician, he begged permission to have him removed to his own
dwelling, and to care for him while I should carry the tidings to
you. I have brought my family here, and I have already rejoined my
regiment, and shall go out as an officer. You know," continued
Arnold, with a laugh, "that our officers expose themselves so rashly
that King William has threatened, if they persist in it, to take
measures of proceeding against them! My route passes through the
place where Wulf found such hospitable welcome, and, if agreeable to
you, I shall accompany you thither. And now you will have all sorts
of preparations to make for the journey. I shall see you early
to-morrow morning."
Arnold's wife added some kindly words; then both took their leave.
Sibylla's heart was full of joy and gratitude. As she became more
tranquil she could not help thinking how wonderfully Arnold and his
wife had changed. "Yes; life is, after all, the first true education
for people," she reflected. "Every thing else is only preparatory.
And then this war! Does it not seem to have drawn to the surface the
good traits of every body? Arnold Von Kahring and enthusiasm--these
were two that no one ever would have dreamed of associating; and now
he glows with purpose, and can not wait for the time when he may
fight for the Father land. How ready I was with my criticism against
Arnold, and now he has become so different!"
Yes; life educates and refines.
To-day, Wulf lay in complete possession of his senses. The past few
days were more or less dark to him. He was very weak, and the
silence around seemed very beautiful. He gazed with the greatest
interest on the wonderful designs that adorned the arabesque
tapestry. He had done this yesterday and the day before, but was not
tired of them. Every thing was so quiet and lonely. Had it not
always been so? He pressed his head, and thought. Yes; now he
understood. The roar of cannon and crack of guns were the last
things he had heard, and now all was still. Where was he, then? He
looked around. The red stripes of the carpet--O God! was that blood?
Then he knew that for long days he had stood in the midst of
bloodshed, and had seen nothing else. Where? When? The scales fell
from his eyes. He had left the battlefield, and a whole church full
of wounded had expected him. Why had he not hastened to them?
Slowly and gradually the interim gleamed up and unfolded its
pictures. Yes; he had been in a swamp, and he had prayed there.
Prayed? What then? Unconsciously he folded his hands and said
softly:
"Dear Lord, I would thee love,
That I may go to heaven above."
Beside the bed, unobserved by Wulf, a beautiful woman was standing,
watching the sick one with anxious eyes. She must control herself.
This was the order, that his first consciousness might not be
disturbed. Now she could restrain herself no longer. She drew the
curtains back, and kneeling at his side took the beloved hand in
hers, and fervently said: "Amen!"
"Sibylla!" cried the sick one.
"Wulf! my own Wulf!" responded the faithful wife.
Twice had her husband been restored to her! The kind old physician
entered the room softly some minutes later, to learn if his patient
slept, it was so still in the room; but when he saw Sibylla sitting
on the bed, pressing her husband's dear head to her breast, both
silent, but with eloquent eyes, he withdrew, and said to himself:
"Such a reunion of joy and thanksgiving and love, between husband and
wife, must be sacred to both." So do we also think, and therefore
leave them alone.