Some four months later H. M.’s confirmation of the court’s finding reached the little garrison. And that was the signal for another procedure, for now it became the duty of the Council of Honor to undertake a new investigation of the same facts, but from a different point of view,—namely, whether König had failed in any one point against the professional honor of an officer, and hence merited reprimand or punishment at the hands of his second judges.
The captain accepted this new ordeal with the long-suffering patience which had become habitual to him by this time. The final issue was still involved in slight doubt, but he felt himself safe in the firm conviction of his own innocence.
During this whole period of anxiety his domestic hearth had been almost his sole source of comfort. His family life had always been one of unalloyed happiness, and his wife, though young and pretty, had never been fond of that ceaseless round of noisy dissipation which had been such a feature of the little garrison for years past. So she did not miss the social pleasures which she now perforce had to deny herself; for, along with her husband, the ladies of the garrison now made it their business to cut her whenever she met any of them in the streets. Nevertheless, Frau Clara had felt this whole time of trial quite severely. A loving wife is jealous of her husband’s reputation and of the honor due him, and, as for herself, she had been degraded from being the most popular woman in the regiment to the level of a social outcast; but her proud soul refused to submit to this ostracism, and it was no small gratification to her that the wives of the leading civilians made it a point to visit her at frequent intervals, and with some ostentation. Meanwhile Lieutenant Bleibtreu, the ever-faithful, was no less zealous in his attendance.
One evening he again called, but his face was clouded. It was known to the Königs that the unpleasant position into which their steadfast young friend had fallen by championing his captain’s cause weighed considerably on him, and that he had made efforts for some time to be transferred somewhere else.
As to the cause of his depressed mood, the lieutenant answered that his petition for transference had been rejected.
“And what do you mean to do now?” said his late chief, after a while.
“I have handed in my resignation.”
For a moment his hosts looked at him in some consternation, but then König reached out his hand and said to him:
“You have done well. I must confess I pity you from my heart that you have to leave so fine a profession, and to inure yourself to prosaic civilian life, with its eternal questions of losses and gains; but I understand the motives which have induced you to take this step. You, as a young officer, have seen events in this place which even I, so much older and more experienced than you, cannot but deplore with all my heart, and I can well understand it if you have lost that joyousness in the fulfilment of your duties which alone often makes these duties bearable.
“I could have wished to have you become a valued member of another garrison, and to see other conditions, better than those prevailing here. That would have proven to you that there are still many of the officers in our army who differ radically from some of those with whom we are acquainted here; but since they deny you that boon, it is perhaps best for you to turn your back on the army entirely.