But now his German heart was forced into silence by the exigencies of Russian discipline, and the general had to obey the orders of his superior officer, General von Fermore. His chief had ordered him to exercise the utmost severity and harshness, and imposed upon him the task of scourging Berlin like a demon of vengeance. And yet Berlin had committed no other crime than that of remaining faithful to her king, and of not wishing to surrender to the enemy.
A fresh dispatch had just arrived from General von Fermore, and its contents had darkened the brow of Tottleben with anxious care. He had received orders to blow up the arsenal in Berlin. This noble and handsome building, which rose in proud splendor in the midst of a populous town, was to be destroyed without reference to the fact that the blowing up of this colossal edifice would scatter death and ruin throughout unfortunate Berlin.
"I will not do it," said he, pacing up and down the room, and crushing the accursed paper which brought the cruel order in his clinched hand. "I cannot be such a barbarian. Fermore may command me to do barbarous actions, but I will not accept such commands! I will not obey! No one but myself knows of this order. I will ignore it. The Empress Elizabeth has always been very gracious toward me, and will forgive me for not executing an order which certainly never proceeded from her own kind heart." At this moment the door opened, and the adjutant entering, announced Count de Lacy.
Tottleben's countenance assumed a gloomy expression, and, as with hasty step he advanced toward the Austrian general, he muttered to himself, "I perceive the bloodhounds have got the scent, and are eager for blood." In the mean time Count de Lacy approached him with a friendly and gracious smile. He seemed not to be at all aware that Tottleben did not accept the hand which the Austrian general held out to him with a hearty greeting.
"I come to chat for a short quarter of an hour with your excellency," said Count de Lacy, in very fluent German, but with the hard foreign accent of a Hungarian. "After a battle won, I know nothing pleasanter than to recall with a comrade the past danger, and to revel again in memory the excitement of the fight."
"May I request your excellency to remember that the Austrians cannot count the conquest of Berlin in the list of their victories," cried Count Tottleben, with a sarcastic smile. "It was the Russian army which besieged Berlin, and Berlin surrendered to us."
"You are very kind to remind me of it," said Count de Lacy, with his unchangeable, pleasant smile. "In the mean time may I request a more particular explanation than this polite reminder?"
"You shall have it, sir," cried Tottleben, passionately. "I mean to say that Berlin is not Charlottenburg, and to request that the vandalism which the Austrian troops practised there, may not be transferred to Berlin. Be satisfied with the booty which your soldiers stowed away in their knapsacks at that place, and have the kindness to order the Austrian army to learn a little discipline and humanity from the Russians."
"From the Russians?" asked Count de Lacy, with ironical astonishment.
"Truly one is not accustomed to learn humanity from that quarter.
Does your excellency mean to say that the Austrians are to learn good
manners from the Russians?"
"Yes, from the Russians," replied Tottleben—"from my soldiers, who neither plunder nor rob, but bear in mind that they are soldiers, and not thieves!"