s jovial life had been nothing
but a deceit practised on him. His master was a recruiting officer, and
he himself a recruit. From this point he shall relate his own fate:--

"It was on the 8th of April that we entered Berlin, and I in vain
inquired for my master, who, as I afterwards learnt, had arrived eight
days before us. When Labrot brought me into the Krausenstrasse in
Friedrichstadt, showed me to a lodging, and then left me, saying
shortly: 'There, messieur! stay till you get further orders!' Hang it!
thought I, what is all this? It is certainly not even an inn. As I thus
wondered, a soldier came. Christian Zittermann, and took me with him to
his room, where there were already two sons of Mars. Now there was much
wondering and inquiring, who I was? why I had come? and the like. I
could not well understand their language. I replied shortly: 'I come
from Switzerland, and am lacquey to his Excellency Herr Lieutenant
Markoni; the sergeants have shown me here; but I should like to know
whether my master is arrived at Berlin, and where he lives.' Here the
fellows began to laugh, whereupon I could have cried, and none of them
would hear of such an Excellency. Meanwhile they brought me a very
stiff mess of pease porridge. I eat of it with little appetite.

"We had hardly finished, when an old thin fellow entered the room, who
I now saw must be more than a common soldier. He was a sergeant. He
carried a soldier's uniform on his arm, which he spread upon the table,
laid beside it a six groschen piece, and said: 'That is for you, my
son! I will bring you directly some ammunition bread.' 'What? for me?'
answered I, 'from whom? what for?' 'Why your uniform and pay, lad!
what's the use of asking questions? You are a recruit.' 'How? what? a
recruit?' answered I; 'God forbid! I have never thought of such a
thing. No, never in my life. I am Markoni's servant. That was what I
agreed for and nothing else. No man can tell me otherwise.' 'But I tell
you, fellow, that you are a soldier, I can answer for that. There is no
help for it.' I: 'Ah, if my master Markoni were but here!' He: 'You
will not soon get a sight of him. Would you not rather be a servant to
our King, than to his lieutenant?' Therewith he went away. 'For God's
sake, Herr Zittermann,' I continued, 'what does this mean?' 'Nothing,
sir,' answered he, 'but that you, like I, and the other gentlemen
there, are soldiers, and consequently all brothers, and that no
opposition w