From that day forth they watched narrowly each other's word and look, and seemed to be always in a state of miserable anxiety about each other. If they were going to market, they made a point of starting at the same time; for the one dared not leave the other a moment behind, for fear he should have an opportunity of saying a kind word privately to Ellen, or of obtaining a kind look from her, in which the other could not share. If they were sitting together in their humble parlour, they kept a sharp and jealous look-out upon every motion and every glance of hers; and if she spoke a little longer, or with a little more apparent interest, to one, the room seemed to be too confined for the other, and he would rush out to breathe the free air, but yet without feeling the oppression removed from his heart. At length, even the little friendly attentions they used to pay to Ellen were given up, for jealousy taught both the brothers what poison there might lie in them for each.
Perhaps it would have been better if Ellen could have then declared which she preferred; her heart would have led her willingly to do so; but to make the other dear brother unhappy! Had they not both been so kind to the poor child whom they found under the tree? Which, could she say, had surpassed the other in affection to her? Besides, neither of them had asked her which she liked best. No--neither of them had ventured to do that: but both became more gloomy, both apparently more miserable, and the love of both became more impetuous.
They were all three sitting together one evening; for the young men's mother was now very feeble and mostly confined to bed. At length, Johan spoke of the news he had that day heard at the clergyman's house--'that war had broken out, and that the king had called upon all his faithful subjects to assist him in it. For the first time for many months the brothers looked frankly and unsuspiciously at each other, and, holding out his hand, George said--
'Brother! shall we go to the war?'
A hearty shake of the hand was Johan's reply.
'For God's sake, do not leave me, my dear brothers!' cried Ellen. 'Would it not be enough at least for one to ...' she added, almost in a whisper; but she stopped suddenly, for the countenance of both the young men had darkened in a moment. In the fierce look which they exchanged lay more than words could have expressed; and Ellen felt, as if the idea had been conveyed to her in a flash of lightning, that they must both go. She seized a hand of each, pressed them to her beating heart, and told them, in a voice broken by suppressed sobs, that they must go, that they must trust in God, and that she would pray for them both.
That night, when she had retired to her little chamber, she wept bitter tears, and prayed to the Almighty that he would watch over them both; and if one must fall, that he would preserve him whose life would be of the greatest utility. But her sighs were for George, and her secret wishes for his safety.
The brothers joined the army. The life they led there, so new to both, seemed to call forth from their inmost souls long-dormant feelings, and they once more became intimate, but of home they never dared to speak. They often wished to write to that home, but something invisible seemed always to prevent them, and neither of them would let that duty devolve upon the other. It was almost a relief to them when they had to march to the field of battle; the lives of both would be exposed there--God would choose between them. And they looked earnestly one upon the other, and wrung each other's hand. But when they met after the battle, they did not shake hands, they nodded coldly to each other; and, to a comrade from their native village, they said--'When you write home, tell them that our Lord has spared us.'
Again they went forth to meet the enemy; again they participated in that fearful lottery for life or death; and amidst the tumult of the fight, they chanced to stand side by side. At length, driven off the field, they took refuge in a small building, but it was speedily attacked by the enemy; they saw the bayonets glittering on the outside, and heard the officer in command give orders to fire at it. Immediately, Johan pressed the secret spring of a trap-door which led to the woods, and forced himself through it. George stooped over it and was about to follow his example, when an evil spirit entered into Johan's heart; he thrust his brother back, drew down the trap-door, and rushed towards the trees. Immediately he heard the sound of firing; the smoke concealed his flight, he crept into the wood, trembling in every limb, and fainted away upon the grass.
On recovering from his swoon, all was still around him; but he soon fell in with some of his comrades, and rejoined his regiment. The troops were shortly afterwards mustered, and the name of each individual was called. How intense were his feelings when his brother's was heard! None answered to it; and, conquering with a violent effort his emotion, he ventured to glance towards the place that his brother used to occupy, and where he almost dreaded to see a pale and threatening spectre. He heard his comrades talk of him, but his heart appeared to have become seared. He felt that he ought to write to Ellen, and evening after evening he sat down to the task; but he always abandoned it, for he fancied, that without any confession, she would discern that the hand which traced the letters on the paper to her had thrust his brother into the jaws of death. He gave up the idea of writing, but through another sent a message of kindness from himself, and the tidings of George's death.