Reimers nodded.
"You are right, doctor," he said, "and I am much obliged to you."
He looked weary and broken as he went out at the door. In a thoughtless moment he had destroyed his one chance of happiness. That moment he must expiate, and he knew he was strong enough to bear the burden.
But it seemed to him that it was not this alone that had decided his fate. He felt as though a grey veil had descended over his whole future; even over all that in his imagination had elevated him above the more sordid chances of destiny.
Could this be because that star to which the doctor had pointed him was losing its brilliancy?
Gloomily he trod the woodland path to the town. Down below in a field behind the barracks an old sergeant was giving the assistant trumpeters a lesson. The lads blew forth a horribly ill-tuned unison. Then the sergeant set his own trumpet to his lips, and the notes of the dismissal rang clearly through the air:--
Notes of the Dismissal
The signal that in the manœuvres indicated the close of each evolution.