"Richard, Richard," he cried, "there is news of a battle at Eylau!"
The gentlemen sprang from their chairs, Madame von Stork turned pale. Her Wolfgang was with the army.
"Yes, yes," cried the Major, speaking French very rapidly, "there has been a battle, a dreadful one, something terrible. There is no news yet that is certain. Some say, victory, others, defeat, but the whole town is in wild excitement. I have heard that the suffering of the soldiers was awful."
"Naturally," said Herr Brandt in German—not a word of French would he speak, "with all this ice, snow, and freezing."
"I have but one boy," said the Major, "and he is with the army. Here, Clarchen, some wine. Ah, many thanks, Mademoiselle Pauline." In spite of his worry he made a gallant bow, the cockade on his queue bobbing.
"My Rudolph," he said, "is a soldier, and perhaps at Eylau. But he can be nothing better than his father was, now can he?" He settled his double chin over his high stock and gazed from his blue eyes at the gentlemen.
The Professor motioned them all to seats.
"Clarchen," he said to his wife, "it is bedtime for the children." His voice was trembling.
The children all bowed and curtsied, and, kissing their mother's hand and wishing pleasant dreams for everybody, departed; Marianne, Pauline, and Otto, also.
The gentlemen, for Madame von Stork in a moment followed to give orders to her servant, sat with filled glasses and discussed Napoleon and their country.