Some accident must have happened over yonder. Perhaps, a stroke of apoplexy had felled a poor man to the ground; perhaps, a murder had been committed, for the faces of the bystanders looked pale and dismayed; they clasped their hands wonderingly, and shook their heads anxiously.
The king rang the bell hastily, and ordered the footman, who entered immediately, to go over to the arsenal and see what was the matter.
In a few minutes he returned, panting and breathless.
“Well,” said the king to him, “has an accident occurred?”
“Yes, your majesty, not to anybody in the crowd, however. The statue of Bellona, which stood on the portal of the arsenal, has suddenly fallen from the roof.”
“Was it shattered?” asked the queen, whose cheeks had turned pale.
“No, your majesty, but its right arm is broken.”
The king beckoned him to withdraw, and commenced pacing the room. The queen had returned to the window, and her eyes, which she had turned toward heaven, were filled with tears.
After a long pause, the king approached her again. “Louisa,” he said, in a low voice, “will you still go with me? The day is clear and sunny; not a breath is stirring, and the statue of Bellona falls from the roof of our arsenal and breaks its arm. That is a bad omen! Will you not be warned thereby?”
The queen gave him her hand, and her eyes were radiant again with love and joyfulness. “Where you go, I shall go,” she said, enthusiastically! “Your life is my life, and your misfortunes are my misfortunes. I am not afraid of bad omens!” [Another bad omen occurred on that day. Field-Marshal von Mullendorf, who was to accompany the troops, after being lifted on the left side of his charger, fell down on the other.]