But Napoleon suddenly gazing at him, the professor hesitated, then, a strange look on his face, bowed as if in spite of himself.
"It is Professor Hegel, the philosopher," said a man near Hans. "He has been writing here in Jena and did not even hear the cannon. A moment ago the postmaster told him the news and he is like one broken-hearted."
But Hans had not time for gossip. Jena men whom he knew were on the road to the field to bring in the wounded and they hailed him.
"Well met, Hans," they cried. "Come! We need men. Come, and help us."
"Ja wohl," and Hans turned and joined them. "I am too old to fight, alas, comrades," he grieved, "but God be thanked, I can do this for the army." And he marched off with the group.
Why not?
Annchen and the children were quite safe with Kasper's father. Anna knew his ways and would not worry. It had been different when he had had Bettina. Her concern had been for the child and not for an old soldier such as he was. Why not, then?
And so he followed to the field where the horses still were racing, the Prussian soldiers fleeing, the thieves prowling to rob the dead and the dying, and where, above the havoc, still roared without ceasing the cannon of Napoleon.
Towards Weimar the sky was crimson, tongues of flame darting up and suddenly lighting the heavens.
There was but one cry: "Vive l'Empereur! Vive Napoleon!" and, as Hans, with the gentleness of a woman, lifted man after man from the ground, he knew that the soldiers of Frederick had had their good-morning, and the country of that famous old soldier lay conquered in the dust.