He sat down to make a few farewell arrangements, as is best in such cases. He wrote a long letter to his mother and a short one to Otto. That was all. What did it matter? Even supposing—
He was furious with the weight of his dejection. He hoped that he would kill the Prussian.
At her dressing-room window also, late, stood Ursula, listening to the bells. They had long since ceased to ring, yet still she heard them on the starlit air. “Peace and good-will. Peace and good-will.”
Through the open door came the slow rhythm of Otto’s breathing. She quailed as it fell on her ear. Nothing could change.
“Glory to God in the Highest,” she said, tremulously. And she passed into the other room.
CHAPTER XXXI
“WHOSOEVER SHALL SMITE THEE—”