At last the brave words reached the camp, and were re-echoed by thirty thousand lusty throats. There was universal joy. Old gray-headed warriors, who had followed the king into many battles, who had conquered repeatedly with him, shook hands with and encouraged each other, and warned the younger soldiers to be brave and fearless.
Resting upon his horse, the king had been a joyful witness to all this enthusiasm. At this moment, a troop of soldiers, numbering about fifty, approached him. The commanding officer was greeted with a kindly smile.
“You are Lieutenant von Frankenberg?” said the king. And as the lieutenant bowed in answer, he continued: “General Kleist has spoken of you as being a brave and trustworthy officer. I have therefore a strange commission for you. Listen well! do not lose a word of what I say. Come nearer. And now,” said the king, in a low voice, “be attentive. In the approaching battle, I will have to expose myself more than usual; you and your fifty men shall guard me. You must watch over me, and be careful that I fall not into the hands of the enemy. Should I fall, cover my body with your mantle, and carry me to the wagon, which shall be stationed behind the first battalion. Leave me there, and tell no one of what has occurred. The battle must continue—the enemy must be defeated.”
When the king had thus made his testament, he dismissed the lieutenant, and advanced toward his body-guard.
“Good-morning!” cried the king, cheerfully.
“Good-morning, father!” was the universal answer. Then the old graybeards, standing beside the king, said again:
“Good-morning, father! it is very cold to-day.”
“It will be warm enough before the day is over, boys!” said the king. “There is much to be done. Be brave, my children, and I will care for you as a father.”
An old soldier, with silver hair, and the scars of many wounds upon his face, approached the king.
“Your majesty,” said he, in an earnest voice, “if we are crippled what will become of us?”