CHAPTER XVII
"Love of the fatherland,
Love of the freeborn man,--"
(German National Anthem.)
Franz Vogt had calculated that his release from prison would take place at the beginning of February. He had hoped for a clear sunshiny day, a blue winter sky, a hard frost, and crackling snow beneath his feet.
Everything turned out according to his wish; yet when the heavy prison-gates opened, Vogt never noticed the beauty of the winter day. He thought of Wolf, whom they had shot down in his attempt to escape. He himself had helped to lift the dead man, whose skull had been shattered by the shot.
Vogt was escorted back to the garrison by a sergeant. He would have had about two months more to serve, as the five months of his imprisonment were not counted; but on account of his father's death he had in any case to be given his discharge, in order that his little property might not suffer by neglect.
He had to wait a few days till all the formalities were gone through. Gunner Vogt did everything he was told punctually and obediently, though hardly with that cheerful frank readiness which had of old proved him such a good soldier. During his punishment the fresh open-hearted lad had become a gloomy, self-contained man.
One evening Käppchen, the clerk, who among all the changes in the battery seemed to be the only person who remained in his place, announced to him: "Vogt, your papers are made out. To-morrow you can go."
And Vogt answered him respectfully: "Very good, sir."
He was alone in Room IX. on the morning of his release, putting on his civilian clothes. The battery had gone down to the big exercise-ground for general foot-drill. He took his time over his dressing. What need was there to hurry? Nobody was waiting for him outside; and nobody would miss him here. He was quite alone in the wide world.