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, G.o.d 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 doc.u.ment 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 a.s.sist 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.

"That war," she said, "was an unnatural one, but this contest is waged in a holy and just cause, and its consequences must therefore be calmly accepted. And things, too, have changed with my husband; for now fortune smiles upon him."

She told us that an a.s.sociation had been formed under the auspices of the Princess, for the purpose of aiding the families of those who were obliged to go to the war, and to prepare aid for the sick and wounded.

"I shall be one of you," exclaimed Annette. "I, too, wish to do my share in the good work. And, Professor, I shall remember your words, 'It is braver to persevere in small services and sacrifices.'"

Richard soon left for the university town, where he had yet to make some preparations before starting with the army. He grasped Annette's hand, and it seemed to me as if he held it longer than usual; but he only said, "We shall meet again."

His long face, with its large, full brown beard, bright blue eyes, and arched forehead, seemed more beautiful than ever, and his splendid, powerful form seemed almost heroic.

In the evening I was crossing our princ.i.p.al street, and met Annette carrying several packages under her arm.

War kills one weakness which in men is insufferable, and in women difficult to bear; namely, false pride.

In such times, who can stop to think how he may appear to others? You are nothing more than a wonderfully small fraction of a great and complete whole. And it is this idea which makes you great, and lifts you above all petty thoughts.

How absurd we had grown to be. It had come to be regarded as improper for a well-dressed man or woman to carry a package while in the street; the dress of the ladies was so fashioned that they were obliged to use their hands to prevent it from dragging, and thus it was impossible for them to carry even the smallest package; but now all that was changed.

Annette told me that she and some other ladies were about to take a course of instruction from a surgeon, in the art of dressing wounds.

She said this simply and unostentatiously.

CHAPTER VIII.

While Martella and I were on our way to the depot, in order to return to our home, we were encountered by a dense and impenetrable crowd.

What could be the matter?