"But do not they understand German?" asked his cousin.
"Not a word," said Algernon, gazing in his face; "you would not persuade me, Lovet, that you have been so long amongst them without discovering that fact?"
"No," replied Lovet; "but I have discovered something more, Algernon: that the discord is not only in the tongues of this host, though Babel could scarcely match it in confusion of languages, but in the spirit, character, customs, views, and feelings, of those who compose it. It is, in fact, a mere mob of different nations, English, Scotch, Germans, Bohemians, Transylvanians, Silesians, Moravians, and Dutch, without one common bond between them, not understanding each the other's tongue, no man having a fellow-feeling for his neighbour, no zeal, no esprit de corps, and one-half of them not knowing what they are brought here for at all. Now I say, that if this corps beats the regular and well-disciplined Austrians and Bavarians, it must be by a miracle from heaven; for no human means will ever produce such a result--so now, good-night, cousin; I shall go to my tent and sleep; for as there is a chance of this being the last evening of my life, I have taken care to make it a merry one; and I am tired of amusement of different kinds."
"Good-night," said Algernon Grey; and they parted.
At the door of his tent the young English nobleman found his servant, Tony, and the page, Frill, conversing together in low tones; and, on asking if they had delivered his message to the young Prince of Anhalt, he was informed that Christian had gone forth to make a round through the camp, and had not yet returned. Algernon Grey perceived that there was a sort of hesitation in the manner of both his attendants; that Frill gazed at the elder servant, and the old man turned his eyes to the page; but, suspecting that both might entertain some apprehensions regarding the ensuing day, he did not choose to encourage any questions, and walked at once into the tent.
"Give it yourself, Frill, give it yourself," said Tony, loud enough for his lord to hear; "has the devil of impudence abandoned you, that you dare not do what it is your duty to do, when you dare do so much that you ought not?"
Algernon Grey had seated himself before the little table, and the next instant Frill entered the tent, and approached with a paper in his hand, saying, "This dropped from you, my lord, as you were dismounting at the foot of the hill. I found it under the horse's feet."
Algernon Grey took the paper from his hand, and looked at it for a moment before he opened it. He did not recollect its shape and appearance at all. It was folded as if it had been placed in a cover, in form like an ordinary letter, but without seal or address. There was the mark of a horse's shoe across it, so that the boy's story, of where he had found it, was thus far confirmed; and Algernon Grey unfolded it and held it to the lamp. The handwriting was not unfamiliar to him, for he had twice in his life received a letter in the same; but the tone was very different from that in which he had ever himself been addressed, although his relation with the writer might have justified the warmest language that woman can use towards man.
"A whole year and more has passed," so ran the letter, "and yet you have not returned, nor accomplished that which you undertook. I thirst to see you, to cast myself into your arms again.--I thirst in the midst of all these people, barren and insignificant to me, for the sight of him I love, as the traveller in the desert thirsts for the cool well. Yet come not, till it is accomplished; but strive, if you do love me, to accomplish it soon. Take any means,--take all means. Tell him, that I hate him; that I shall ever hate him; that his cold and precise nature can never assimilate with my fiery and impetuous disposition; that those who linked us to one another, tried to bind flame and ice together. Tell him, that I say I hate him. Tell him, if you will, that I love you. Require him to break this bond, as has been often done before; and let him know, if he persists, it shall be for his own wretchedness; that every hour of his union with me shall be an hour of misery; that every minute shall have its grief, or woman's wit shall fail me. If all this does not decide him, you must seek some other means.--I leave them to you, but the man's life cannot be charmed; at all events, do what you have to do speedily, my William, and then fly to my arms. I will not put my name, but there will be no need of guessing twice.--Farewell!"
Algernon Grey laid down the letter on the table, and gazed at it sternly for a moment, then raised his eyes to the page, who had retired to the other side of the tent near the entrance.