'For God's sake, my dear friend!' said Swedenborg, anxiously, 'rely not so confidently upon the uncertain fortune of war! Bound to the wild steed of accident, the goddess of fortune ranges through the world--and when she stops and looks back upon her bloody and smoking path, she finds that she has only described a hopeless circle. She stands upon the point whence she started, and all the life and happiness, which she has trampled down in her furious course, is offered up in vain.'
'You speak so learnedly that I cannot wholly understand you,' laughingly observed Kolbert; 'but I gather from your conversation, that you lack the true soldier's faith. You have done well, therefore, in consecrating yourself to the pen. The sword would make you too deeply anxious. We, on the contrary, when our king leads us forth, would cheerfully grapple with the devil himself in his own dominions, and sing over him the te deum prænumerando.'
'And who can guarantee, proud man,' asked Swedenborg with a piercing glance, 'that your king will see the breaking of another morning, to lead you on to strife and victory?'
He speedily withdrew. An indignant murmur arose among the officers; 'It is almost too bad,' said count Posse.
'Yes, indeed!' grumbled Megret. 'And the worst of it is, that they should permit such fools to run about freely in the camp, exciting and perplexing weak minds.'
'Swedenborg certainly is not a fool,' said Posse; 'but a warning example of the disorder which fanciful ideas may create in a clear and ripe understanding.'
'Besides, he is never once original,' said Kolbert. 'The prophecy of the king's approaching death has been circulating through the camp for several days.'
'Original or copy,' said Megret, spitefully, 'one should not publish his fanciful ideas on every occasion. And whatever of sound understanding he may have, according to the count's opinion, might be allowed by all parties to circulate freely, and no harm done.'
At this moment Siquier re-entered with evident agitation, and whispered to Megret, 'the king visits the trenches this evening.'
'Diable!' cried Megret, snapping his fingers. 'Cannot you dissuade him from it?'