in the
morning sun as they marched in solemn order toward the citadel.

General von Falkenried, who had been giving various orders, now turned
to his officers and gave the signal to move forward.

At that moment a rider came dashing down the main street at a mad galop.
His noble horse was covered with sweat and froth, and his flanks were
bleeding from the sharp spurs which had been pressed into his side. The
rider's face was covered with blood, too, which evidently came from a
wound in the forehead which had been hastily bound with a cloth. As if
fleeing before a storm, he heeded naught in his path, but rushed on in
his mad ride toward the market-place where the commanding general was to
be found.

Just a few steps from his goal the horse's strength gave out and he
fell. But in the same instant the rider had sprung from the saddle, and
hastened to the commander-in-chief.

"I come from General M----."

Falkenried drew a sharp, quick breath; he had not recognized the
blood-stained face, he only knew that the man must have come on some
important mission, but the tone of the man's voice gave him some
premonition of the truth.

Hartmut swayed for a moment and put his hand to his head--it seemed as
if he, like his horse, would succumb at the last moment; but he gathered
himself together for a final effort.

"It is a warning from the general--there is treachery, the citadel is to
be blown up as soon as our men are in it--here are the dispatches."

He tore the dispatches from his breast and handed them to Falkenried.
The officers were startled by the unexpected news, and gathered around
their chief waiting the corroboration or denial of the statement just
made, but a strange sight met their eyes. Their general, who never lost
his presence of mind, no matter how unexpected or how dreadful the
calamity which he faced, stood gazing at the orderly as if a ghost had
risen from the earth, still holding the unopened dispatches in his hand.

"Herr General, the dispatches!" said one of the adjutants, half aloud.
He understood his leader as little as did the others. It was enough to
bring Falkenried to his senses. He tore open the dispatches and learned
their contents in a second, then again he was a soldier who thought of
nothing but duty. He gave his orders in a loud, clear voice, the
officers hurried hither and thither, cries of command were given, and
signals sounded in every direction, and a few minutes later the division