He had heard of the death of Carl, and was just about to pay a visit to his mother, when Rothfuss came rushing into the room in breathless haste, and told us that Carl was down in the stable, and begged that we would go to his mother and gently break the news of his safe return to her.

We had Carl come up to us, and learned from him that he had been cut off from his companions during a reconnoissance, and taken prisoner, and had thus by mistake been entered in the list of the killed.

When he heard this, the Major inveighed furiously at the want of system that obtained everywhere.

I decided that I would go to his mother, and that Carl and the Major should follow me a little while later.

I went to the spinner's cottage. She sat at her spinning-wheel; and I could not help believing myself the witness of a miracle, for as soon as she saw me, the old woman called out, "Will he come soon?"

She then told me that she had awakened during the night--she was quite sure it was not a dream--and had heard the voice of her son saying quite distinctly, "Mother, I am not dead--I will soon be with you. I am coming--I am coming!" And she had heard his very footsteps.

"I went to the pastor's," she said, taking off one spindle and putting on a new one; "the pastor had given orders to have the church-bell tolled on account of Carl's death; but I will not allow it--my Carl is alive, and I do not want to hear the bells tolling for his death."

I told her that in time of war there was necessarily much confusion, and that I, too, believed that her son was still alive, and would return again. I was just about to say that I had already seen Carl, when he stepped out from behind the wood-pile, and called out, "Mother!"

The spinner remained seated, but threw her spindle to the far end of the room.

Carl fell on his knees before her and wept.

"You need not weep--I have done enough of it myself, already," said she. "But I knew it--you are a good child, and you would not be so cruel as to die before me. Get up and pick up my spindle. Have you eaten anything, Carl? You must be hungry."

When Carl told her that he did not wish for anything, she replied, "Indeed, I have nothing but cold boiled potatoes. Now, do tell me, how did it seem when you were dead? You surely thought of me at the last moment? Tell me, did you not last night at three o'clock, wherever you were, say to yourself, 'Mother, I am not dead: I shall soon be with you--I will come soon--I will come soon?"

Carl answered that he had really uttered those very words at the time mentioned.

"That is right," said the old woman.

She arose from her seat, took her son by the hand, and went on to say, "Now, come up into the village with me. Let us go with these gentlemen.

Major, I thank you for the honor of your visit. I suppose I may go along with you?"

We returned homewards.

It was already known through the whole village, that the young man who had been lost and so sincerely deplored had returned. Friends poured forth from every doorway, while from the windows cries of "Welcome Carl!" were heard.

On our way we met Marie, carrying a bundle of clover on her head. She threw her bundle away and hurried towards Carl; but when she came up to him she suddenly stopped, as if frightened.

"Good-day, Marie. I am glad that you, too, have come to bid me welcome," said Carl.

He extended both his hands to her, and she took hold of them, but did not utter a word.

We walked on, and when I turned to look back, I saw Marie sitting on the bundle of clover, with her face buried in her hands.

Rothfuss was the jolliest in the party.

"Now one can see how untruthful the world is," he exclaimed. "Did not every one say how much he would give if only Carl were alive! He is here, now, and is alive again, and what do they give? Nothing. One ought not to do people the favor to die; anything in the world but death."

We reached the house. Carl's mother walked up to my wife and said, "Madame Waldfried, here he is--my son Carl. Just as he has come back to all that is good, so will Ernst surely return. They were born on the same day--do you remember? There was a great storm at the time; and the nurse came directly from your house to mine. And at that very moment the lightning struck the tree that stands behind my house and tore it to pieces; and then the nurse said, 'This boy will see something of war.'

"You did not believe in it, but it came to pa.s.s, nevertheless. Down in the valley there is a spring, and a mother's heart is like a spring, for it flows by day and night. Your Ernst--my Ernst--will return again."

No one dared reply, but with Ernst everything was different.

The old woman now begged that we would inform "the great lady," as she always called Annette, of Carl's return. The Major promised to do so; and when he and I were alone together, he mentioned Ernst's name for the first time, and informed me that the commander of his division had, in the presence of the entire corps of officers, expressed his great regret that his brother-in-law had deserted.

Ernst had brought pain and disgrace on us all; but there was still another trouble in store for us.

A letter reached us from Johanna, in which she informed us in short, hard sentences that her son Martin had died of the wound he had received; and that her husband, who had been an invalid for many months, could not long survive him. I told the Major of this, but kept the news from the rest of the family.

On the day before the Major left us, we had received a letter from Ludwig in America. He was delighted to know that the Diet had been dissolved, and thought that he now saw the dawning of a great era for our Fatherland. The Americans already spoke with great respect of Germany, and of the power of Prussia and its leaders.

There was a bitter tone in the remarks of the Major when he said, "Ah, yes; thus things seem to those who are far away, and get all their information from newspaper reports. If I only knew how I could turn my talents to use in the New World, I would ask for my discharge and emigrate to America."

This man, who had never known anything of discord or dissension, was now, like many others, torn by conflicting doubts.

The children had left; the house was quiet again, and winter approached.

Martella seemed filled with new life, and was glad that she could be alone with my wife again. When Annette wrote to us that she would spend the whole or a part of the winter in the village, Martella said, "That is well, too: she is so entertaining to mother."

CHAPTER X.

The Diet was again convoked; and I can hardly describe how hard I found it to leave my home and resume the disagreeable and exhausting occupations that now devolved on me.

In company with Joseph, I drove into town, on my way to the capital, when Annette called to me from the warehouse of Edward Levi. Her mourning attire invested her with an air of majestic gloom; but her brilliant glance and her clear complexion prevented her black habit from looking too sombre. She must have noticed that I was pleased with this, for she said, "I am trying to recover my health, and avail myself of the two greatest remedies; I have just left the ocean, and shall now go into the woods. My mother-in-law has gone to Paris to join her daughter, who is the wife of our minister. She has an idea that one cannot exist, save in Paris. I shall come and see you; you and your wife can do me much good, and I may perhaps be of some use to you. I have never learned how to lead a life of repose. I shall now learn it; in your house I shall find the best school, and your wife will have patience with a sad, yet wayward pupil."

She bought an ingeniously constructed stove with all sorts of cooking utensils belonging to it, and presented it to Carl's mother. Besides this, she had bought all sorts of new furniture for herself, as she intended to spend the winter at the village. She was so glad to see Rothfuss again that she left her carriage and got into ours, so that he might tell her of all that had happened during her absence. Her driver had been instructed to take all her new purchases up to Joseph's house and deliver them to her maid.

I went on towards the capital, and Annette towards the village.

On the way, Joseph told me that he had done very well by the war. The South Germans, he told me, had been such violent partisans of Austria because the greater portion of the proprietors in the neighborhood had invested their money in Austrian securities.

Annette's brother had, however, in good season, called his attention to the fact that a great change was taking place in financial affairs.

America had already successfully pa.s.sed through a great war, and the current of capital was now tending in the direction of the United States, where its investment was both safe and profitable.

Joseph's object in visiting the city was to dispose of his American bonds, which were then commanding a very high price.

It has always been, and will ever remain, a marvel to me how Joseph, with all his real interest in public life, could at the same time manage to reap a profit from the movements of capital.

I had the good fortune to travel in company with Baron Arven, who was a member of the Upper Chamber, and was also on his way to the capital. He seemed greatly depressed, and admitted that the realization of hopes one could not help entertaining sometimes produced new and unforeseen griefs.

Thus it had been, he said, with the separation of Austria from the rest of Germany. It had long been recognized as necessary to the proper development of our own political life, and as an advantage to Austria; and yet, when it was brought about, it seemed more like a death that one had felt it his duty to wish for.

From many hints that he threw out, I could not but feel a.s.sured that the painful political dissensions had been deeply felt by the Arvens, who were connected with the empire through so many family ties.

The Baron invited me to take up my quarters, while in the capital, in his mansion, as his wife did not intend going there during that winter.