I followed after him for a while, keeping near enough to hear his firm step and the rattling of his spurs. I fondly hoped that he would yet return to me, and tell me of the thoughts that oppressed his heart.
I met many acquaintances on the way, who saluted me and extended their hands. They wanted me to stop and talk with them, but I merely nodded and passed on.
In my eager haste I ran against many people, for I did not want to lose sight of my son. There he goes! Now he stands still--now he turns. Surely-- At that moment a company of soldiers marched down the street to the sound of lively music; we were now separated. I could not see my son again. I returned to Bertha and the Major, and the latter promised me to keep a watchful eye on Ernst, and to send us frequent tidings in regard to him, in case he should neglect to write.
I rode to the depot. I was fearfully tired, and felt as if I could not walk another step.
As the trains were quite irregular, I was obliged to wait there for a long while.
I felt--no, I cannot--I dare not--revive the painful emotions that rent my bosom. Of what avail would it be? My son was going forth to war, and I had brought him here, myself.
"Brother fighting against brother." I fancied that I had been talking to myself and had uttered these words; but I found that they were frequently repeated by the excited groups that were scattered about the depot. All about me there was ceaseless turmoil. People were rushing to and fro, yelling, shouting, cursing, and laughing. I sat there absorbed in thought, not caring to see or hear anything more of the world, when a familiar voice said to me, "How charming, father, that I should meet you here!"
My son Richard stood before me; he had finished his lectures and was about to return home.
Accompanied by him, I started for home.
Richard informed me of the political divisions among the professors, and thus afforded me a glimpse of a sphere of life entirely different from my own. Even the immovable altars of science were now trembling, and personal feeling had become so violent that the friends of Prussia, of whom Richard was one, could not appear in public without being subjected to insults. On our way home, we stopped for dinner at the garrison town, where we heard the most contemptuous allusions to the "Prussian braggarts," as they were termed.