Waldfried: A Novel. Auerbach Berthold

life was evidently moving in a smooth current, for the half-fledged youth had already been lucky enough to win the love of so charming a girl.

      I felt quite reassured to find that Ernst's thoughts had taken another direction. He emphatically declared himself ready to join his regiment, and asked me to let him have some money. He thought there was no need of my accompanying him to the capital, but I felt loth to leave him, and, although I should not have done so, I promised to endeavor to procure his discharge.

      We again met Joseph, who expressed his regret that the conscription of his valuable servant Carl would oblige him to return to his home, for he had intended to accompany us to the capital.

      It was necessary for him, however, to go to the fortress, for he had accepted a contract to furnish fence rails.

      Joseph is a very active patriot, but he is quite as active as a business man. He has the art of combining both functions, and Richard once said of him with justice: "With Joseph, everything is a stepping stone, and all events contribute to the success of his business plans."

      We were seated in the garden of the Wild Man Tavern, when we heard a great uproar in front of the house of Krummkopf, the lumber merchant.

      A company of conscripts had marched up before the house, in which there resided a young man who had purchased his discharge from military service, and they cursed and swore that they who were poor were obliged to go to war, while the rich ones could remain at home.

      Joseph, who recognized many of his workmen among the young folks, succeeded in pacifying them.

      We accompanied Ernst to the railway. At the depot I found Captain Rimminger, the lumber merchant, who was just superintending the loading of some planks. When I told him that he ought to feel glad that he was no longer a soldier, he silently nodded assent. He did not utter a word, for he was always exceedingly careful to avoid committing himself.

      At the depot we saw conscripts who were shouting and cheering, mothers who were weeping, and fathers who bit their lips to control their emotion.

      At every station where Ernst left the train, I feared that he would not come back; but he did return and sat by my side quietly, speaking only in reply to my questions. For a while he would sit absorbed in thought, and then he would stand up and lean against the side of the railway coach, in which position he would remain immovable. I felt much grieved that the heart of this child had become a mystery to me.

      We arrived at the capital. I had lost sight of Ernst in the crowd, but afterwards found him talking with the ensign, the director's son. Ernst desired to go to the barracks at once. I accompanied him to the gate, which he entered without once turning to look back.

      CHAPTER XXI

      I remained standing near the gate and saw constant arrivals of more young men. Men and women desired to accompany them inside the barracks, but were always ordered back by the guard.

      Carl, the son of the spinner who lived on the rock, was also among the arrivals. Without any solicitation on my part, he promised to keep an eye on Ernst.

      It had become night; the gas-lamps were lit, and yet I stood there so buried in thought, that the lamp-lighter was obliged to tell me to move on.

      There I was, in the capital in which there lived so many of my friends, and my own child; indeed, two of my children.

      Where should I go first? Our club-house was in the vicinity, and I went there. They praised me for having come so soon, for while I had been at the borough town they had telegraphed for me.

      They were in hourly expectation of a government order, convoking the Parliament. What we were expected to discuss no one knew; but every one felt that it was necessary for us to assemble. I could not bring myself to believe that war was really possible, and there were many who shared my opinion.

      Funk was there also. He offered me his hand in a careless manner, and, feeling that in such times enmity should be at an end, I shook hands with him.

      Funk rejoiced that the grand crash was at last to come. Prussia would have to be beaten to pieces, and a federation founded; for the present, with a monarchical head.

      The minister, who was well known as an arch-enemy of Prussia, had sent word to the committee of our party that he would come to us that same evening, and bring the order convoking us with him. He did not come in person, but contented himself with sending the written order. Of what use could we be when the harm had already been done. What were we? Nothing but a flock without any will of our own.

      I went to Bertha's house. I found her alone; her husband was at his post, busy day and night. It had suddenly been discovered that the troops were not fully prepared.

      I had not been there long, before her friend Annette entered, from whom as usual I was obliged to endure much praise. Annette found it quite-she was about to say "patriarchal," but checked herself in time-that I had come to assist Bertha.

      "Only think of it," she continued, putting all her remarks in the form of questions, as was her wont: "Would you have thought that Bertha would be much less resigned than I? I have always wished that I might be so gentle and self-controlled as Bertha; and now I am the quieter of the two. Have I not as much love for my husband as any woman can have for hers? Have I not given up everything for his sake? Now I say to myself, 'Did you not know what you were doing when you married a soldier? Is the uniform merely for the parade and the court ball? Therefore, rest content. In this world everything must be paid for. It is necessary to accept the consequences of one's actions.' Am I right or wrong?"

      Annette always closed with a note of interrogation, and of course I was obliged to respond affirmatively.

      Bertha smiled sadly, and said in a weary voice: "Yes, father, I must admit it; I have always thought that war was one of those things of which one only learned in the hour devoted at school to history. I only knew of the Punic wars and the Peloponnesian war-for we never got as far as modern history-and thought of these things as of what had once been. But I honestly admit that I did not think they would come to pass again in our time."

      "Just think of it, Bertha," said Annette, while she drew a thick volume from her satchel, "this is the Bible. You know that I never take quotations at second-hand, but prefer looking them up myself. This morning while the hairdresser was with me, it occurred to me that the Bible says the wife should leave her father and her mother for his sake. So I sent for the Bible, the very one that the dowager princess presented me with when I was christened. I hunted up the passage, but what did I find? Why, that for this the 'man would leave his father and mother,'-the man. Now just look, it says the man; and why should it say the man? He is not a domestic plant, like us girls!"

      The vivacity of the pretty and graceful woman cheered me, and I must admit that from that time my opinion of Annette changed. She seems imbued with much of that power of self-reliance which is a peculiar characteristic of the Jews; they are nothing by inheritence, and are obliged to make themselves what they are.

      But Annette seemed to guess at my silent thoughts, and continued, "Do not praise me, I beg of you! I do not deserve it. I am quite different when I am alone; then I am tormented with horrible fancies. And let me tell you, Bertha, when our husbands leave, you must keep me with you. I cannot be alone. I am beginning to hate my piano already. I do not go into the room in which it stands. Ah, here come our husbands!"

      We heard advancing steps. The Major entered, and greeted me politely, but seemed quite gloomy.

      I told him that I had brought Ernst.

      "I hope he will do himself credit," said the Major in a hard voice.

      I told him that the Parliament was about to reassemble, whereupon the Major with great emphasis said, "Dear father, I beg of you do not let us talk politics now. I have the greatest respect for your patriotism, your liberalism, and for all your opinions. But now it is my uniform alone that speaks; what is inside of it has not a word to say."

      He pressed both hands to his heart, and continued:

      "Pshaw! I, too, once believed in 'German unity,' as they are fond of calling it… and even had hopes of Prussia. But now we will show these impudent, mustachioed Prussian gentlemen what we are made of."

      I