your own full loving heart; and my Hermann is
Lilian's brother. I dare not dwell upon the thought that he is fighting
from his own voluntary choice, and I--No, I, too, stake all freely.

[Eric to Weidmann.]

In Camp.

O my friend! Roland is missing. We have gained a victory. I have
searched the battle-field with our surgeon, Adams, and Hermann. O what
a sight! We did not find Roland. Our hope is that he has been taken
prisoner.

What a hope!

I am obliged to console myself while consoling Hermann. The youth feels
to the very depth of his true soul sorrow for the lost one, but he is
far from exhibiting any weakness; the good training of a free
Commonwealth, and of the German parental home, has now its effect.
Hermann is now my tent companion; he is entirely different from Roland.
Here in America every one has room for development, and all the
branches live and spread forth on the tree; and besides, Hermann has no
sorrowful conflict with fate in his soul, such as my poor Roland had.

I beg you, if any news comes from Sonnenkamp addressed to me, that you
would write to him that his son is a prisoner.

I am tired to death. The images of the wounded, the dead, the trampled
under foot, will never fade from my memory.

I don't know when I shall write you again, but I entreat you to let
Sonnenkamp know about Roland immediately; perhaps you could insert it
in some English newspaper which circulates in the Southern States.

Confer with Professor Einsiedel about everything, but I beg you not to
say anything about it to my mother.

[Lilian to the Professorin.]

"Write at once to Eric's mother," says Roland to me.

So you see, honored lady, that I have found him.

The terrible tidings reached us that Roland had either been killed or
taken prisoner, and I could no longer endure it. I went down into the
enemy's country. Oh, how much I have gone through! I have been on the
battle-field, and looked into the faces of hundreds of the mangled and
the dead. I have been in hospitals, and heard the moans and the groans
of the sick and the wounded, but nowhere Roland, nowhere any trace of
him.

I still travelled onward, and they had compassion for me, those
terrible people; they pitied the lonely maiden who was seeking her
beloved.

I found him at last--no, not I. Griffin found him, for the faithful
animal was with me. We