st judgment.
With trembling knees, and faces pale as death, they rushed down the
principal street of the village. The crowd started after them, and like
the howling of a storm, shouted behind them: "Away with you!--away with
the deserters!"

On they ran, as if pursued by furies, farther, farther down the street,
but the villagers still chased them. Once only Charles Henry dared to
look around at the pursuers. It was a fearful sight. At the head of the
rest he saw his old father, with his pale face, his white hair flying in
the wind; raising his arms threateningly toward him, he cried out in a
thundering voice: "Away with you!--away with the deserters!"

Charles Henry rushed onward--a cry of terror escaped his lips, and he
fled like a madman.

They had passed the borders of the village--it was quiet behind
them--they dared to look back--they were alone. But on the boundary-line
the villagers stood--their faces turned toward the fugitives--and like
the distant croakings of a raven there sounded in the air: "Away with
you!--away with the deserters!"

Breathless, with tottering knees, the boys sank down--with hollow eyes,
speechless with terror, sorrow, and humility, they gazed at each other.

They did not dare return to the village. Perhaps to appease the anger of
their relations, perhaps because they repented of their cowardice, they
returned to their regiment, acknowledged their crime, and prayed for
forgiveness.

Thus the brave fathers of the village of Brunen punished their cowardly
sons, and drove the dishonored and faithless boys to their duty, perhaps
to their death. [Footnote: This account is historical.]

CHAPTER VI. THE TRAITOR'S BETRAYAL.

Count Ranuzi was alone in his apartments. He sat at his writing-table
reading over the two letters he had just written; a triumphant smile was
upon his lip as he finished. "It will succeed," murmured he, softly; "we
will take Magdeburg without a blow, and thus deprive the King of Prussia
of his most valuable fortress. The plan cannot miscarry; and then I
have only to convince the empress that I was the soul of this
undertaking--that I led the intrigue. Ah, I shall succeed at last--I
shall occupy a position worthy of me--and as general of our order I
shall rule the world. I shall earn this title at Magdeburg--there I will
build my throne--there I will reign! But I must consider it all once
more, to see if no error, no mistake, has escaped me. I first formed a