And the Englishman stood at the brook, angling.
BOOK FIFTH.
CHAPTER I.
Trumpets sounded, drums rolled, and songs from thousands of voices were heard in the valley and on the hills. All was joyous commotion. Thus, singing, does a nation take the field for its protection and salvation.
In the midst of anxiety for great things, for one's country, we ought to be troubled by no mere personal cares. But who can avoid them? The general sorrow is infinitely divided, and every one must bear his share.
That my son-in-law, two grandchildren, and a faithful servant had gone to face the dangers of the battlefield, was a sorrow like that which many thousands besides myself had to bear. What a heavy burden is that borne by the lonely widow down by the rock! But the knowledge that one child is already in the whirlpool of trouble, and is dragging another after him--that has been given to me alone. How often it occurred to me at that time: had my wife but lived to see the uprising of our Fatherland! It was better thus. She was spared the sight of our youngest son enrolled in the enemy's ranks. That phrase from the Bible, which, when thinking of her, I had so often consoled myself with, remained true: "But for the elect those days shall be shortened." Why had Rautenkron, after keeping his story so long to himself, now divulged it? Had the secret become too burdensome? And why did he cast the load on me? Enough, I had to overcome it.
The presence of my son-in-law had given me new courage, and I agreed with Rothfuss, who said, "When the Colonel is about, every one is more erect in his movements. Yes, he commands even when he says nothing."
I had never seen the Colonel thus. Such joviality beamed from his face that a glance from him was strengthening and reassuring. His only fear was that a premature peace might be concluded with the insolent successor of the tyrant, before all was decided by battle!