This interview sobered me. Was this the frame of mind in which a part of our country was to be regained? I decided to visit my sister, and then to return home. That evening Arven changed my resolution.
CHAPTER VIII.
Arven lived in the hospital, and on my arrival there I was welcomed by a tall, fine-looking woman in a white cap and white apron. It was Annette, and I was not a little astonished to meet her there; but even she had no time to spare, for she said she had to return to her patients, and that Arven was waiting for me in his room.
This was really the case. Arven gave me a hearty welcome, and said that he had given orders that he was not to be disturbed excepting in case something of great importance needed his attention, and that, for this evening, he would be a thorough egotist.
When I told him how repellent the angularity and coldness of the Prussians had appeared to me, he said that this was just what he wanted to talk to me about.
He had been exceedingly provoked at their cold-blooded manner. He had already determined to leave them; but after a while he had made up his mind that this sharpness, bitterness, and decision were the forces that made them the men they were. Obedience is with them a habit that can be depended on. We South Germans are too soft and easygoing, and we ought to breathe some of the salt-sea air that blows across that northern country. This want of attention towards others, this disregard of people's feelings, lay in the fact that they had no consideration for themselves. The French, who, whatever they do, want to be observed and applauded, will be beaten by these men, whose whole power rests in their self-respect. We used to think the Prussians were braggarts; but now we found no trace of boastfulness, and in spite of their constant victories, they took every precaution as they advanced, and were prepared for defeat. Yes, orders describing the manner of retreat were issued before every battle.
He could not cease praising them, and only stopped when he added that he thought their self-esteem was a result of Protestantism. The Baron stopped when he had said this, and, after we had eaten and drunk to our hearts' content, he said that, although he was a Catholic, he would never confess to a priest again, but that he would confess to me; and in case he should not return from the war, he would have the satisfaction of feeling that his inner life had been laid before another, for an hour at least.
He confessed to me that his desire had been to die in this campaign, and it was for this reason that he had exposed himself so recklessly when collecting the wounded. It seemed strange to him that people should praise his courage, while he was engaged in seeking death. He thought it would be the best thing for himself and his children, if the great sorrows that had come upon them, and which might come again, could be buried with him.
He then groaned aloud, saying, "I do not want to die before their eyes."
I saw before me a life that had been most cruelly broken. The Baron had once been in the Austrian army. He had never expected to find himself at the head of his family, for he belonged to the younger branch.