"But don't think he forgot you, Bettina," said Willy very hastily. Then he touched his head. "Poor old man," he added, "he has forgotten everything," and he told poor, wild-eyed Bettina that old Hans was like a child, always talking about Frederick the Great and his battles, and remembering not a word about Jena.
"But the queer thing," said Willy, "is that he starts at any very loud noise and he had the mark of a wound on the back of his head. What it means we have no idea, as he remembers nothing."
Bettina's tears fell fast.
"Grandfather," she said over and over, "my poor, dear, old grandfather!
"I will go home to Jena and see him," she cried. "I will tell Fräulein Marianne."
"And I will take you," announced Willy, "just as soon as I am well enough to travel." And he gazed at Bettina as if he thought her very pretty.
"And little Hans and the baby?" asked Bettina. Willy laughed as loud as his weakness would permit him.
"Hans, ach Himmel! That's a joke, little Hans! There's no telling how many Frenchmen he finished in one battle. The baby is eight now," he added.
"Hans a soldier, the baby, a big boy!" How the years had flown! Jena, yesterday; Waterloo, to-day.
"Yes," said the girl, "I will go back to Thuringia."