marching to the fortress was brought to a standstill, while the
withdrawing garrison was also brought to a sudden halt.

Now the alarm signal was sounded from the citadel. Neither friend nor
foe knew what it signified, only the newly conquered fort must be
evacuated at once. The orders were carried out promptly. Despite the
haste there was no disorder; the troops turned to march back to the city
as they marched from it.

Falkenried still stood in the same place issuing orders, receiving
communications, while with glance and word he watched and guided all.
But he found a minute's time to turn to his son, he to whom he had given
no sign of recognition.

"You are bleeding--your wound must be bound."

Hartmut shook his head.

"Later; first I must see the retreat and know we are saved."

The fearful excitement kept him up. He swayed no more, but watched with
feverish impatience every movement of the troops. Falkenried looked at
him, then he said:

"Which way did you come?"

"Over the pass."

"Why, the enemy hold it," cried the General.

"Yes--they hold it."

"And yet you came that way?"

"There was no choice; we only knew it last night, and I had no time for
any other."

"That's a piece of heroism without parallel," said a high officer, who
had just come up with a communication and heard the last words. "Man,
how did you dare to run such a risk?"

Hartmut was silent; he raised his eyes slowly, and looked at his father.
Now he was not afraid to meet those eyes, and in them he read that he
was absolved.

But even the strength of him who has ventured all--and won, has its
limits.

His father's face was the last he saw, then a bloody veil covered his
eyes; he felt the blood again, hot and wet, running down his face, and
all was night to him as he sank to the ground.

There was a roar and a shock which made the whole city quake and
tremble. The citadel whose outline rose bold and clear toward the blue
heavens seemed suddenly to be turned into a seething, glowing crater,
vomiting flame. Within the bursting walls a very hell seemed to gape, as
the shower of stones rose in the air only to sink again in the fiery
hollow, and, as the gigantic wreck burned and blazed, it made one mighty
pillar of fire reaching to the very heavens above--a vengeful, hideous
flame of death.

The warning had not come a moment too soon. In spite of all precautions
there had been some victims who lived in the immediate vicinity of