"Mother," she said, "do what I can, I cannot get rid of the thought that everything depends on to-day; to-day will show whether we are to remain at the Mill or not. Father has done something and what it is...."
"It's stupid of him to have done it," interrupted the Miller's wife.
"And so I want to follow him," Fieka went on. "I will ask the Herr Amtshauptmann or the Frau Amtshauptmann or some one else--I don't know whom exactly yet.--God will show me the way, and put the words in my mouth."
"Go, Fieka," said her mother.
Fieka went. She could still see the waggon in the distance. She reached Stemhagen, and went, as usual, to Witte's house: she asked for the baker, he was at the Schloss; she went into the room,--there was Friedrich sitting talking to a soldier who had on a red jacket, and had got his back turned to her.
Friedrich jumped up: "Dumouriez! Fieka! How did you come here?"
The soldier also jumped up. Good heavens! What is this? Can that be Heinrich!--Yes it was. He threw his arm round her.
"Fieka, my darling little Fieka," he cried, "don't you know me again?"
Alas! she knew him well enough. She screamed out loud: "What, Heinrich? Heinrich, you turned soldier?"
"Well," said Friedrich, "and what should a brave fellow turn now but a soldier?"