'At last!' said the Count, with something of pride mingling in his irritation; 'I don't think the Kaiser has lost much time.'
'Our troops were attacked, at least so the telegram says, by the French, led by the Emperor Napoleon in person.'
'Where—where?' asked all his listeners, while the three ladies grew very pale indeed.
'At Saarbrück.'
'The devil!' exclaimed the Count; 'that is actually on our Prussian ground.'
'Saarbrück?' re-echoed the Countess and Herminia, in faint voices, for they both knew that Heinrich was with the advanced column there.
Ernestine knew that her Carl was there too; but no sound left her white and quivering lips.
'And what were the results of the conflict—the casualties, and so forth?' asked the old Count, his mind flashing back to the days of Ligny, Wavre, and Waterloo.
'Unknown as yet. The first man killed is said to be an Englishman.'
'Gott in Himmel!' cried the Count, 'my girl has fainted!'