"Can you tell me where I can find him?"
"That would be no good. The captain's gone away--to a court-martial."
The turnpike-keeper started violently.
"Is the court-martial on Bombardier Vogt?" he asked.
The soldier answered in the affirmative, and inquired in surprise, "Who are you, then?"
"Vogt's father. I--I wanted to talk to the captain about my son. But it is too late, I see."
He turned about, saying, "Thank you all the same," and went towards the stairs. In the dark he missed the first step and stumbled; the lad ran after him. He led the old man to the banister and said, "Take care you don't fall; it is rather dark here. And you know, Herr Vogt, the men of the battery all say it is a mean shame, what's happened to Vogt, a mean shame."
But the turnpike-keeper did not seem to understand him. He only nodded and said, "Thank you, thank you," and tramped slowly down the stairs in his heavy boots.
Whilst Friedrich August Vogt waited for his train in the station of the little garrison town, the trial of his son was taking place before the military court of the district.
There was no doubt about the circumstances of the case. The two eye-witnesses, Senior-lieutenant Brettschneider and Senior-lieutenant Reimers, were unanimous on the subject, and the accused gave his assent to the correctness of the particulars.