ountain railway lay surrounded
by pine woods.

There stood the beautiful creatures side by side in splendid condition
and with coats like satin. Nearly all of them were dark bay, and
according to temperament they stood stolidly staring before them, or
pawed impatiently at the straw, or playfully bit and teased each other.
Only four stalls were empty. "Sybille" and "Achat" were drawing his
belongings to the station. Another pair had been borrowed by Major
Schrader, who had been invited to a hunting party on a neighbouring
estate.

Last he came to his own riding-horse in the loose box, a pretty
creature with four white fetlocks, who was rather nervous, and
unusually tender-mouthed. Baldwin shrank from the man in the dark brown
suit, and it was only when the sergeant-major spoke that the animal
recognised him. Even then he was shy, and sugar and bread failed to re
assure him. Schumann called him by his pet name, rubbing his cheek
against the velvet nostrils, and then only did the horse become quiet.
The sergeant-major could have shed tears. But he wanted to make an end
of it, and clear out from these barracks, where he no longer had his
place. Lingeringly he quitted the stable, and going out on to the
parade-ground, stood once more before the battery's memorial tablet.
The sixth was one of the oldest batteries; there were therefore a
goodly number of skirmishes and battles engraved upon the tablet. Sedan
was the most disastrous and at the same time the most glorious day--the
day on which the battery had fired nearly eight hundred shots, so that
by evening the gunners had become so deaf that they could hardly
understand the orders which were shrieked into their ears.

Oh yes, it had been an honour to belong to the battery, and it was only
right that in times of peace also the sixth should always have been an
example for others.

"To commemorate the fallen; to inspire the living!" he read softly.

He nodded in earnest assent; then turned round suddenly and re
entered his house.

He put on his overcoat hastily, and seized his hat and stick. Then he
locked up, and knocked at the deputy sergeant-major's door, in order to
give up the keys.

Frau Heppner was alone.

"Are you just going, Herr Schumann?" she asked softly.

The sergeant-major nodded, and said: "I am putting the keys here, in
front of the looking-glass."

Then he went up to the sofa on which the invalid was lying and took her
hand. "Good-bye, Frau Heppn