ll the truth; where you spill my blood
will Revolution grow as flowers grow by water. I forgive.'

"Then he sees me. 'Hans!' he says, 'Hans!' He holds out his arms. 'I
want to kiss my brother,' he says. The General he says, 'All right.'

"But I love the King. 'No! I have no brother! I will not a traitor
kiss!'

"My Gott! how my brother looks! He looks already dead--so full of
sorrow is he.

"A sharp crack of guns! They chill my heart, and down dead falls my
brother.

"I go away, outside glad, but in my heart I feel burn the fires of
hell. Father and mother in one year die for sorrow. Then I am Graf.

"I desire to be of society, but society will not--it is cold. Guests
do not come to my table. Servants do not stay. They tell that they
hear my mother weep for sorrow in the night. I laugh at them, but in
my heart I know them true. Peasants in the village hide from me as I
come to them.

"But my mind is worse. Every night I hear the crack of the rifles--the
sound of the volley that was my brother's death. Soldiers I get, men
of the devil-dare kind, to stay with me. They do not come back; they
tell that they hear tramp, tramp, tramp of soldiers' feet.

"One night, with the soldiers, I take much wine, for I say, 'I shall
be drunk and not hear the guns at night.'

"We drink in our noble hall. Heavy doors are chained, windows barred,
draperies close arranged, and the great lamp burns dim. We drink, we
sing, we curse God und das Gesindel. 'We ourselves,' we say, 'are
gods.'

"Then creeps close the hour for the guns. My tongue is fast and cannot
move; my brow is wet and frozen is my blood.

"Boom! go the guns; then thunder shakes the castle, lightning flashes
through the draperies, and I fall as dead.

"Was I in a dream? I know not. I did not believe in God; I did not
believe in heaven or in hell; yet do I see my past life go past me in
pictures--pictures of light in frames of fire: Two boys, first--Max,
my brother, and I, playing as children; then my mother weeping for
great sorrow; then the black walls of the great fortress--my brother
with arms outstretched. Again my blood is frozen, again creeps my
skin, and I hear the volley and see him fall to death. I fear. I
scream loud that I love the King, but in my ear comes a voice like
iron--'Liar!' A little girl, then, with hair so golden, comes and
wipes the stain of blood from my brow. I see her plain.

"Then I awake. I am alone; the light is out; blood is on my f