"In an hour such as this," continued the king, "plain and straightforward speaking is necessary. I hear that the army does not confirm the choice I made, General Gebser, when I nominated you as its commander, and that another name is more popular than your own amongst the soldiers. Also," he added, "I hear that fears are expressed lest you, my dear adjutant-general, should be disabled by increasing years from undergoing the fatigue which, will doubtless be needful during a difficult and exhausting campaign. Should your health fail there would be an interruption in your duties, which could not but be dangerous and disastrous to an army on the march. Gentlemen," he said in a low tone, bowing his head as if he wished with his sightless eyes to discover the impression caused by his words; "you know that I am ready to sacrifice my life, and every personal wish to my country. I know that you have the same feelings, and that from your true hearts I may ask the same sacrifice. I, your king, acknowledging and prizing your services and your talents, I beg you to make this sacrifice."
The king was silent, a deep sigh broke from his heart.
General Gebser raised his head proudly, and a smile came to his lips. Pale, but without hesitation, he advanced towards the king, and said in a firm voice:
"It was my duty, at my royal master's command to lead the army against his enemies, and to draw my sword in defence of my country. It is equally my duty, if your majesty has found one more worthy, to resign the command. I thank you for the confidence you felt in me."
"Which has never been shaken for a moment," interrupted the king.
"And I hope," added the general, "that he who succeeds me will serve your majesty and the country with the same zeal and devotion. I know it will be so," he continued, "for he is a Hanoverian officer."
The king held out his hand to him in silence, and without glancing at the crown prince, or the ministers, with a firm step the general left the room.
General von Tschirschnitz gnawed his white moustache in great emotion. A tear shone in his eye.
"Your majesty," he said slowly, "this is not the time and place to examine into the reasons of those who are so careful to protect my old age from the fatigues of war. I have nothing to do but to request your majesty to allow me to resign the post of adjutant-general. Your majesty knows I have already requested permission to retire, in time of peace,--that I must do so now, when the army is marching to meet the enemy, is a deep grief to the heart of an old soldier. Perhaps the recollection of this," and he pointed to the Waterloo medal upon his breast, "might have enabled me in spite of my age to bear the fatigues of war; but it is a law of nature that the old should give way to the young. I beg your majesty to preserve a gracious remembrance of your old adjutant-general."
The old gentleman's rough soldier voice failed him.