"I hope he will do himself credit," said the Major in a hard voice.
I told him that the Parliament was about to reassemble, whereupon the Major with great emphasis said, "Dear father, I beg of you do not let us talk politics now. I have the greatest respect for your patriotism, your liberalism, and for all your opinions. But now it is my uniform alone that speaks; what is inside of it has not a word to say."
He pressed both hands to his heart, and continued:
"Pshaw! I, too, once believed in 'German unity,' as they are fond of calling it,.... and even had hopes of Prussia. But now we will show these impudent, mustachioed Prussian gentlemen what we are made of."
I was careful not to reply to his remarks, in which I could easily notice the struggle that was going on within him. He was on duty; and it is wrong to talk to a man who is at his post.
What sort of a war is it in which they know no other cry but "Let us show them what we are made of!"
And if the victory is achieved, what then? An invisible demon sat crouching on the knapsack of every soldier, making his load heavier by a hundred-fold.
We seated ourselves at the table. The Major seemed to feel that he had been harsh towards me, and was now particularly polite. He asked about mother, Martella, and Rothfuss. He told us that he had that day heard from our newly discovered cousin, in a letter from Mayence, in which he had expressed the hope that they might stand side by side on the battle-field, and thus again become bound to each other.
The Major had nothing more to say. He poured out a glass of wine for me, and drank my health in silence. Annette used every exertion to dispel the dark cloud under which we were laboring.
She asserted that her saddle horse seemed to know that it would soon be led forth to battle, and told us a number of marvellous stories about that clever animal. She was very fond of telling anecdotes, and had considerable dramatic talent.