"Pardon me, oh, pardon me, dear Voss," called out a voice so sweet that Bettina and the wood gatherers thought they had never heard anything like it. It thrilled them like gentle music. Then she swept away the scarf and patted the old lady's shoulder.
Her foot was on the carriage step, when, for the first time, she saw little Bettina. Her lovely face suddenly lighted with a smile like a mother's.
"Voss, Voss," she said, "see that dear child. Do look at her."
Then she stepped from the carriage and turned to Bettina.
"God bless you, little one," she began, but a roar of cannon, loud and thundering, came like a voice warning her to hasten. With a wave of her hand she entered the carriage. From its window, when all were ready, she thrust forth her lovely head.
"God bless you all, good people!" called her voice of sweetness. Her face now looked sad and very anxious. "Pray for me, dear people, pray for my King and your good Duke who is helping him, pray the dear God that He will give us the victory."
Then she drew in her head; bang went the door; the officer gave an order; the postilions sounded; and away dashed the carriage, the splashing mud and the roar of cannon behind it.
The women crowded around Hans.
His face was radiant.
"Who was it?" he cried. Then he spoke with great triumph. "Who better than Hans Lange can tell you? I saw her ride into Berlin in a golden coach to marry her husband. Women," his voice quivered, "the lady with the golden hair and the blue eyes is the 'Angel of Prussia.' Yesterday, in Jena, I heard how the Emperor of the French hates her and has vowed, if he can, to capture her. It is from him, doubtless, that she is flying."