“But this is the Russian's, Kate.”
“No, believe me, it is not Count Stephen has made me his heir; he has given me all his fortune. Even good luck can come too late!” said she, with a sigh.
“Do not leave this till I write to you, Kate. I will do so very soon,—that is, if I can; but these are anxious times. You know, Kate,”—here the boy whispered, in a voice low and tremulous from agitation,—“You know, Kate, that I only left the ranks a couple of days ago. I can tell then, better than all these great folk, what soldiers think and say; they are not as they used to be. Lead them against the Frenchman, and they will fight as they have ever fought; but if it be to fire on their own townsfolk,—to charge through streets where they lounged along, hand-in-hand with the people, like brothers,—they will not do it.”
“This is very alarming, Frank. Have you told the Count?”
“No; nor would I for worlds. What! betray my comrades, and be called on before a court-martial to say who said this, and what man said t' other?”
“But could you not, at least, give him some warning?”
“And be ordered from his presence for the presumption, or told that I was a rebel at heart, or such tidings had never been uttered by me. The old Feld would as soon believe that this earth was cut adrift to wander at hazard through all space, as that treason should lurk behind an Austrian uniform. It would be an evil hour for him who should dare to tell him so.”
“Oh, Frank, how terrible is all this!”
“And yet do I not despair; nay, Kate, but I am even more hopeful for it; and, as Walstein says, if the Empire halt so long behind the rest of Europe, she must one day or other take a race to come up with it.”
“And is Walstein a——a——” She stopped.