"Dead!" cried the cuirassier. "But I cannot leave him there; I promised to take care of him, and no one shall ever say Fritz Deyke broke his word. My poor lieutenant!"
He hastily quitted the ranks and rode up to the commanding officer.
"Sir," he said, saluting him, "I overtook the army at Langensalza and joined the cuirassiers, that I might take my share in the war. I hope, sir, you can say I have done my duty?"
"You have done bravely," replied the officer.
"Well, sir," continued the young man, "the day's work seems over, and, besides, I have a scratch from which the blood runs into my eyes, so I came to ask leave for the day."
The officer looked at him with amazement. A deep blush spread over the young soldier's face.
"Sir," he cried, "I was brought up at Blechow with our president's son, Lieutenant von Wendenstein, of the Cambridge dragoons; and when I left home to join the army, his mother said to me, 'Fritz, take care of my son if you can,' and I promised her I would, sir; and now there lies the young gentleman amongst the dead. Shall I leave him there?"
The officer looked kindly at him.
"Go, my brave lad," he said, "and come back when the lieutenant no longer needs you."
"Thank you, sir," cried Fritz.