But already Fritz had hurried on; and it was but a moment now, until he and Rudolf had reached the station, where a crowd had gathered.
To Fritz the moments of their waiting seemed hours long. But at last some one gave the signal that the train was coming, and all listened with keen attention, while they crowded even closer to the gates.
Presently a succession of low whistles could be plainly heard; then a few moments later the relief train, with its weight of human suffering, steamed slowly into view. Fritz felt his breath coming in quick gasps. Those were anxious moments that he had to wait.
“Take heart, my boy,” Rudolf whispered.
By this time the injured were being lifted carefully from the different coaches, and laid upon the waiting cots. But in the uncertain light shed by the station lamps, it was hard to distinguish any one, the lights flickered so and cast long shadows across the ground.
Suddenly, a murmur went up from the crowd as a stretcher, borne by four men, was carried by.
“There’s Count von Scholtz!” many persons were heard to say. But Fritz gave no heed to this. He was gazing at a tall figure just behind the cot on which lay the injured nobleman, and with a cry of “Father!” would have broken through the line of guards, who stood ready to check the surging crowd, but they held him back. So he and Rudolf could only wait.
Now the cot bearing the Count von Scholtz was lifted to an ambulance; but before the doors were closed, one of the attendants, wearing the Geneva cross upon his arm, turned and whispered something to Conrad Albrecht. The toymaker, in response, went and stood upon the iron step while the injured man evidently spoke to him, for Fritz saw that his father made some reply. Then the ambulance doors were shut, and the wheels began to grate slowly on the road.
Conrad Albrecht began to make his way through the crowd, and as he came forward it could now be plainly seen that both hands were wrapped in linen bandages,—those useful hands, which for many years had furnished happiness to little children far and near; for few were so skilled as he in making toys. And to see those helpless hands smote Fritz and Rudolf to the heart.