of nothing. Since I knew you, I have learned to open my eyes,
and to reflect. But all this will be changed if you desert me, Charles
Henry, and I see that you will do so; yes, you will abandon me. For
three weeks past you have taken no notice of me. You would not go
into my tent with me at Bunzelwitz, but camped out alone. Here, in
the village, you would not come into my hut, but quartered with an old
peasant woman. So I followed you to-day, to ask you, once for all,
if you have the heart to leave me--to spurn me from you? Look at me,
Charles Henry! look at me and tell me if you will make a pitiful and
unhappy man of me?"

Charles Henry looked up from his work, and gazed at the pale, agitated
face of his comrade; and as he did so, tears gushed from his eyes.

"God forbid, Fritz Kober, that I should make you unhappy! I would rather
shed my heart's blood to make you happy."

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Fritz Kober. "If this is so, listen to me and
answer me, Charles Henry Buschman, will you be my wife?"

A glowing blush suffused Charles Henry's face; he bowed down over his
work and sewed on in monstrous haste.

Fritz Kober came nearer and bowed so low that he was almost kneeling.

"Charles Henry Buschman, will you be my wife?"

Charles Henry did not answer; tears and bobs choked his voice, and
trembling with emotion he laid his head on Fritz Kober's shoulder.

"Does that mean yes?" said Fritz, breathlessly.

"Yes," whispered she, softly.

And now Fritz uttered a wild shout, and threw his arms around the
soldier's neck and kissed him heartily.

"God be thanked that it is over," said he; "God be thanked that I did
not deceive myself--that you are truly a girl. When you were last sick,
and the surgeon bled you, I was suspicious. I said to myself, 'That is
not the arm of a man.' I went out, but in the evening you were praying,
and you did not know that I was in the tent, and you said, 'You dear
parents in heaven, pity your poor daughter.' I could have shouted with
rapture and delight, but I held my peace. I wished to wait and see if
you would be good to me."

"But the expression of your eyes was so changed," whispered Charles
Henry; "I was obliged to turn away when their glance fell upon me. I
felt that my secret was discovered, and therefore I avoided being with
you."

"Officer Buschman," cried Deesen, in a commanding voice from the house,
"is your work finished?"

"Immediately; I have but a few stitches to do,