ulled the hood of his cloak over his head, lit a cigar, and
said to me, 'Stay here; I shall come back presently.' After a while, he
returned with axe and spade. Alone, he dug the grave in which Ernst and
Martella were laid."

Wolfgang paused, and I remembered the sacred verses from the lament of
David for Jonathan:

"In death they were not divided."

"Where is Rautenkron?" I asked at last.

"When the grave was filled up, he disappeared. Later, we learned his
fate. You remember that our men had taken the city near by and occupied
it; but the French had so strengthened the castle which commanded it,
that it seemed impossible to drive them out. Rautenkron volunteered to
discover the mines which doubtless were under it. No one knows how he
gained an entrance, but on the following day the powder-magazines in
the cellars of the castle exploded and destroyed part of the castle,
which was then stormed. Great numbers of the enemy were killed. Careful
search was made for Rautenkron, but no trace of him was discovered, and
as, up to this time, nothing has been heard of him, it seems sure that
he was buried beneath the ruins."

CHAPTER II.

Bertha informed me that the Colonel was out of danger, and was staying
in the city during his convalescence. The physician thought he would be
able to lead his regiment within a few weeks. The old spinner had
returned homewards with Carl. He had been taken to the hospital of our
capital.

"And Anton, of the saw-mill--is he dead?"

"Father, I am telling you the whole truth; but I beg of you, do not
seek to learn all these things to-day. Take care of yourself, for our
sakes."

I was soon again able to be up, and Bertha could not say enough in
praise of the kindness and sympathy of the French people, in whose
house I lay.

The housewife now wanted to speak to me, too.

She came, and was quite delighted to receive my heartfelt thanks.

A few days later, I was permitted to visit the Colonel, and the first
words he uttered were, "Bertha, now I firmly believe in my recovery.
You wear your hair in curls again."

He informed me that he had considered it an ill omen, when Bertha had
worn her hair plain. Now that he was out of danger, the curls and
happiness were back again.

Then he recounted everything, from the first moment of his being
wounded, when he seemed to realize what death is. It seemed like a
stroke of lightning; then al