have said, they will not let you off. You are a strong, healthy
youth--you are unmarried, and have no one to support, for your father
can take care of himself. Why, then, as the king is in need of soldiers,
should they pass you by?"

"It is too true." murmured Charles Henry, despondently. After a slight
pause, he said: "But I will not be a soldier--I cannot! For it is true I
am a coward--I have not a particle of courage! That is born with one, it
cannot be acquired; I have it not, and cannot therefore be a soldier."

"Nor shall you become one," said Anna, with determination.

"What can you do?"

"I will join the army in your stead!"

Charles Henry stared at her. He was on the point of laughing, but
the sight of her inspired, earnest countenance, in which a world of
determination was expressed, sobered him completely.

"I will do as I said, for I have great courage, and when I think of a
battle my heart beats loudly, not with fear but with rapturous joy.
To me, nothing would be more glorious than to die, banner in hand,
surrounded by the thunder of cannon, and to cry out exultingly, as the
blood flows from my wounds, 'Vive le roi! vive la patrie!'" Her form was
raised majestically, her countenance beamed with inspiration, a daring
fire sparkled in her eyes--she was so changed in form and expression,
that Charles Henry drew back from her in terror.

"I am afraid of you, Anna Sophia," said he, shuddering. "You are
changed--you are not like yourself."

"No," said she; "nor am I the same. Yesterday I was Anna Sophia
Detzloff--from to-day I am Charles Henry Buschman. Do not interrupt
me--it must be! You shall not break your father's heart--you shall not
bring disgrace upon the village. The king has called you--you must obey
the call. But I will go in your place; you shall remain quietly at home,
thrashing your corn, cutting your hay, and taking care of your kind old
father, while I shall be upon the battle-field, fighting in your place."

"Do you then love me well enough to give your life for me?" cried
Charles Henry, with streaming eyes.

She shook her head slowly, thoughtfully. "I do not know if it be love,"
said she. "I only feel that it must be done--there is no other outlet
but this to help us all. Let us speak no more about it--only tell me
that you accept it."

"It is impossible, Anna Sophia."

"Only accept it, and all will be right."

"I cannot. It would be an everlasting shame to me."

She pressed h