roud and overbearing corps student, and, besides that, is happily
married, has a fine hearty wife and boys like young wolves. I have
always avoided him; but I met him to-day and he handed me the French
newspaper, in which it is joyfully proclaimed that our woods will soon
be in flames. When I read that, I fled. That was enough for me. I am a
good shot. If they wish me to, I can single out my man among the enemy
and bring him down at the first fire. The little forest Junker has
promised to look after my duties as forester. He said that would be the
same as helping in the war, as he could not leave home. Let him make a
virtue of it if he chooses. My woods are in safe hands, and I can go."

He now requested me to use my influence with my son-in-law, the
Colonel, and I faithfully promised that I would.

I asked him whether he had no memento of the mother and the child. He
said that he had none.

"And has the child, perhaps, a keepsake from you?"

"I can remember none. But, yes! When I saw it for the last time, I
brought it cakes in a satchel on which was embroidery representing a
dog holding a bird between his teeth."

My hair stood on end.

"What was the name of your child?"

"Conradine."

"Then all agrees--Martella is your child."

And the man seized my arm as if he would break it, and gave a cry like
a felled ox.

After a while, he regained his self-control. We hurried to the village.
On the way, he told me that he would now confess to me that he had had
a letter from Ernst. He was in Algiers; had entered the army there and
had become an officer. He had told me nothing about it, because he had
thought it was of no use. Ernst had also given him messages for his
betrothed: but he had always kept them to himself. "Spare me all
reproaches," he concluded; "I am punished bitterly enough. Oh, if they
had only been united! How shall I utter the word 'child,' and how can I
listen to the word 'father'?"

When, after leaving the saw-mill, we began to ascend the hill, he
called out in a hoarse voice: "It was here, in this spot, that she
stepped down from the wagon in the twilight. Here, by this very tree, I
heard her voice. It was that of her mother--I could not believe it at
the time. Here, by this very tree."

Rothfuss came towards us. "Have you seen her--is she with you?"

"Whom do you mean?"

"She is gone off with Lerz the baker, who has become a sutler. Oh, the
damned hound!"

"Who?"

"Martella is gone!"