It is midnight, the hour of wandering spirits. Is that a spirit which has just left so noiselessly the tent of the king, and has so quickly vanished in the tent of the adjutant, which adjoins that of the king? No, not vanished, for it has already reappeared; but there are now three of these shadowy beings quietly approaching the white tents of the officers, disappearing for an instant into each tent, then reappearing, and continuing their course.
Where they have been may now be heard a low whispering and moving. Soon another dark figure is visible; it moves cautiously forward toward the soldiers' tents in which it disappears, and from these may be heard the same low whispering, and like a murmuring brook this babbling glides through the entire camp, always following the first three shadows who have gone noiselessly and with the rapidity of the wind through the camp.
Why have these three shadows driven sleep from the encampment? why have they ordered the horses to be prepared? No one has been told to mount, no "Forward!" has been thundered through the camp; and but for the dark figures which may now be seen on all sides, the silence is so profound that one might almost think the camp still buried in sleep.
The Austrians. who can only view the camp from a distance, think, no doubt, their enemy still sleeps.
The silence of the camp is at last broken by a sound like the heavy roll of thunder; and if the moon were now to break through the clouds, it would gleam upon eight field pieces which are being carefully drawn behind a little elevation in the ground, which lies opposite the defile occupied by the Austrians.
Once again all is silent, and the horizon begins to clear; a few rosy clouds fly across the heavens, the veil of night is raised, the stars pale as the morning arrays herself with hues of purple and gold.
It is morning. Let us look again at the camp of the Prussian soldiers. Are they sleeping? No, no; all are awake; all prepared for action, but all silent and motionless as if bound by a charm.
And here is the enchanter who has awakened all these thousands to life, and still binds them to silence. His countenance is bright and clear, his glance seems to pierce the hill which divides him from the enemy, and to divine the moment of their attack. There is the ruler, whose will is law to all these thousands of men, whose word is now to lead them to death, to a shameful defeat, or to a glorious victory. There is the king. He knows that within a few moments the Austrians will attack his army, but he does not tremble.
The Austrians expect to surprise a sleeping foe; but the king, who is the father of his people, has himself, with his two adjutants, Trenck and Standnitz, awakened them from their slumbers; it was he who directed the placing of cannon at the point upon which the Austrian cavalry is certain to make their descent upon the sleeping camp.
The king was right. Do you not hear the heavy tramp of cavalry, the thunder of those cannon?