became the old cat that he did not possess spirit enough to put up his
tail and "phit" and "fiz" at Burgher Jans' terrier, when that predatory
animal made an occasional excursion into the parlour at meal times, to
see what he could pick up, either on the sly or in that sneaking,
fawning fashion which a well-trained dog would have despised. This
continued almost to the end of the month; but then came a bright little
bit of intelligence to gladden their hearts. It was like a gleam of
sunshine breaking through the dark cloud of gloom that hung over them.

Fritz wrote home from Coblentz, close to the frontier, telling how
comfortable he was, and how every one in the army of the Fatherland was
confident as to the result of the campaign. In a few weeks at the
outside, they thought--everything was so carefully planned and every
contingency provided against--the French army of invasion would have
been dispersed to the four winds of heaven and the war be over; and,
then, the Landwehr, at all events, would be enabled to return home to
their several states and resume those peaceful employments which their
mobilisation had interrupted. Fritz said that he feared he would have
no chance of distinguishing himself in the campaign, as one alone of the
three great army corps they had already massed along the Rhine would be
sufficient to crush the hated foe. The only men who would probably see
any fighting would be those serving under the Crown Prince, who had
already routed the enemy and were in active pursuit of them across the
borderland. His veteran old general, Steinmetz, every one considered to
be "out of the hunt completely!" All he would see of the whole affair,
they thought, would be the warriors returning home crowned with laurels
after the victory.

Thus ran the tenor of Fritz's letter, the writer evidently not dreaming
of the events in store for him; and that, instead of returning to Lubeck
in a few weeks, it would be many weary months before he saw the blinking
eyes of the ancient astronomical clock in the Dom Kirche again!

Through the intricacies of the field post, too, this communication was a
long time in reaching the little seaport town on the North Sea, being at
least ten days old when it arrived; but what mattered that? It
contained good news when it did come, and was as welcome as if it had
been dated only yesterday.

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Lorischen, when her mistress communicated the
contents of Fritz's let