"You are right, Miss Forest--farewell!"
He was gone, and Jane remained alone--alone with this stony burden on her breast, for the final veil had not been lifted, the final word not spoken. It had pressed violently to her lips, but a strange might had held it back, the fear of seeing him suffer still more, than through her mere no. She who usually spared none, because she was always pitiless against herself, trembled now before a strange sorrow. For the first time the hard "it must be!" of her father lost its power; for the first time she felt that she could not yield to an inevitable necessity. She had firmly faced all conflicts and tortures; but when, as it now happened, she must also deliver him to this struggle, the woman in her rose in all its anxiety, all its timidity, she shrank back trembling and cowardly before the decisive word--for his sake.
To-morrow! Until then, he must school himself to familiarity with the loss; he would then more easily bear the "why." Now it had crushed him utterly.--And Jane's powers of endurance were also at an end. She broke out into a low sobbing; but amid the sobs she moaned softly. "I should have died if he could have borne it!"
[CHAPTER XXI.]
A Desperate Resolve.
Things looked very grave in the major's apartment. A council of war was in progress. The major himself, with a perplexed air, his hands crossed behind his back, was pacing up and down; the adjutant and a young lieutenant, with thoughtful, anxious faces, sat at the table around which were grouped Doctor Behrend and the other officers. Walter Fernow was the last to enter.
"I have had you summoned, gentlemen," began the major, in evident perturbation, "to acquaint you with a piece of bad news. You know that we expect reinforcements. Captain Schwarz, with his batallion from L., was to unite with us to-morrow. I sent word to him that the mountain road was safe, but I now find this an error I cannot recall."
All faces betrayed a restless suspense; all eyes were fixed upon the major, who continued excitedly as before.
"Lieutenant Witte has just returned with his scouting party. He captured a French peasant on the way, who would not answer his question, but who afterward, becoming intoxicated, prated such strange things and gave such taunting hints, that it was thought best to secure him. Intimidated by threats, he made some confessions which unfortunately were verified, word for word in a reconnoissance which at once followed. The French fusileers, strongly reinforced, hold the mountains between here and L. They have taken possession of the passes, and as they know of the intended march of our soldiers, they will no doubt attack them."
A tremor of alarm passed through the circle of officers. They knew the mountain region too well not to have a fall conception of the danger that threatened their comrades.