"Dear Keudell," said Bismarck, "here are some notes of instruction to the ambassadors in Vienna, Frankfort, and Paris, will you have the goodness to attend to their immediate transmission? Abeken, with his usual talent, will complete the composition quite in my style. Usedom must receive the same instructions, with the additions I have written on the margin."
"I will take care everything is done immediately," said Keudell, bowing, "and to-morrow they shall be sent off."
He glanced at the paper he held in his hand.
"Your excellency," he said with horror, "this is war!"
"It is," said Bismarck. "And now good night. Adieu, dear Keudell, until to-morrow; we must sleep, I am really tired, and my nerves require rest."
Herr von Keudell withdrew.
Half an hour later, perfect silence prevailed throughout the Foreign Office; it was as completely shrouded in the darkness of night as the fate of the future was veiled by the hand of Providence.
CHAPTER II.
[FAIR WENDLAND].
Around the town of Lüchow, in Hanover, lies the fertile and peculiar country, called, without regard to official subdivisions, by the general name of "Wendland." It is one of the portions of Germany where the old Wend race have preserved themselves tenaciously from any admixture of blood, and where their own especial manners and customs still survive.