He received permission to go out for half an hour, and soon stood before me in his smart attire. There was something graceful and yet determined in his bearing.
When we gained the street, he asked me whether there was any chance of his discharge.
I was in a sad dilemma. I had taken no steps, because it was only too evident that my efforts would have been of no avail.
It was this that made me hesitate in answering him, and Ernst exclaimed, "All right. I know all about it."
My very heart bled, pierced as it was by the same sword that rent my Fatherland in twain.
I endeavored to persuade my son that there are times when our own wills and thoughts are of no avail against the great current of Fate.
"Thanks, father, thanks," answered Ernst, in a strangely significant tone.
I could only add, "I feel assured that you will do your duty. Do not forget that you have parents and a bride."
He seemed to pay but little attention to my words.
He took off his helmet, and said, "This presses me so: I am unused to it. It seems to crush my brain."