leave her for a moment.

When we got back to the house she fell asleep in the armchair, and did
not awaken until sunset, when Richard, whom we had not seen all day,
returned.

He admitted that he had heard of Annette's bereavement, but had kept
out in the woods to be out of the way, as he thought there were enough
sympathizers without him, and that he could not have been of any
service.

My wife looked at him with surprise.

Richard told us that during the rain-storm, which had been quite heavy
in the woods, he had been with Rautenkron.

The gloomy man had spoken of Ernst with great interest, and had
incidentally inquired in regard to Martella. He was quite enraged that
he, who never read a newspaper and did not want to have anything to do
with the world, was obliged to know of this war, as one of his
assistants and a forest laborer had been conscripted. He felt quite
convinced, too, that Prussia would be victorious.

For a long while there was no news from the seat of war, except reports
of marching and countermarching.

After that, there came a letter from the Major, who lamented the death
of the Captain, and wrote in terms of admiration of the noble and
composed bearing of Annette.

Richard, who, during Annette's presence, had, as far as possible,
affected solitude, was now again with us almost constantly.

He spoke quite harshly of Annette, and said that she was always
expressing a desire for repose and a quiet life, while at the same time
she was constantly disturbing every one. She would allow no one to live
in his own thoughts; her only desire was, that the thoughts and
feelings of others should be the reflection of her evanescent emotions.

He thought it likely, however, that she might emerge from the refining
fire of a great grief, purer and firmer than she had ever been.

"I know now," said my wife to me one evening, "why Richard went out
into the woods. It was well of him."

I did not understand it, and she, in order to tease me, refused to
explain. She seemed quite pleased with her secret, and I was only too
happy to see her smile once again.

CHAPTER IX.

"Thank God, they have beaten us!" were the words with which Joseph
entered our house the next morning, carrying an extra paper in his
hand. In those words was concentrated the whole misery of those days.
"If Prussia would only march into the South German palaces! That is the
only way to bring about a