er husband. He moved his eyes
in recognition; then the surgeon motioned us to depart.

We went away. From afar, we could hear the rattle of musketry and the
roar of artillery, and the reports constantly became louder and more
frequent.

CHAPTER XVI.

Evening was approaching, when the surgeon sent us word that his patient
had been sleeping. He had awakened and asked for Bertha and me.

We went to him. He could only recognize us by glances, and a wonderful
smile overspread his features. He turned his eyes to the surgeon, who
understood him, and said, "Yes, your wife may sit here for a quarter of
an hour. But you must both be perfectly quiet."

And so we sat there speechless, and heard the din of battle gradually
cease; only occasional shots were now fired.

I was called to the front of the house. Martella and Rothfuss stood
before me. Martella, breathless, told me that Ernst's company had again
been in the fight, many were missing, and, among them, Ernst; he ought
to be hunted up.

Rothfuss desired that I should stay behind; but Martella exclaimed,
seizing my arm, "What do you mean? Father goes with us!"

She had made a wreath to take to Ernst, and she held it in her
trembling hands. She carried Ernst's prize-cup and a bottle of wine in
a basket on her arm.

We went through the village towards the hill. Four men approached with
a litter.

"Ernst! Ernst!" cried Martella.

The two men stopped, and one asked, "Who's there? Who calls?" It was
Ikwarte's voice.

"Set it down!" commanded the other. "Isn't that Martella?" It was
Wolfgang who spoke.

We stepped nearer. They carried a man who had been shot in the leg. The
man raised his head, and said, "That is his father." It was the son of
the owner of the saw-mill down in the valley. "He commissioned me to
carry his love to you. He made himself known to me."

"Where is he? Is he dead?"

"He must be lying up there. Oh! he has done great things."

"What has he done? Where is he?" anxiously inquired Martella. "Speak!
be quick! listen, father!"

The wounded man raised himself with difficulty and spoke:

"We stood within range of the enemy's batteries. Shot after shot tore
through our ranks. Many were falling. Everybody sheltered himself.
Ernst stood upright, and said in a clear voice, 'Stand firm! Face the
bullets! That's the way to be brave.' Finally, we advanced, when a
lieutenant was shot in the forehead; our sergeant