The bridegroom was uneasy. Yet uneasier grew the bride.
"Perhaps," she whispered, "it were better to postpone the ceremony."
"Or," he replied, "to hasten it."
A foreboding of evil oppressed them both.
And still the adjutant came not. Two, three hours elapsed beyond the appointed time. Noon approached; each minute seemed an eternity.
At last hoofs clattered in the court. Hasty steps and jingling spurs were heard upon the stairs. All eyes were fixed upon the door.... It opened, the adjutant appeared, pale, dusty, exhausted, the sweat streaming over his face.
"Remain without!" cried the bridegroom. "You bring a message of death—enter not here!"
"No message of death do I bring," replied the officer hoarsely, "but a hundred times worse. The condemned man has taken the hussars away with him, all, towards the Hungarian frontier. A couple of leagues off they released me to make my report!"
"My horse!" shouted the bridegroom, hurrying madly to the door. But he paused at sight of his bride, paler than ever and with terror in her glance.
"Wait but a moment, dearest love!" he said, clasped her to his breast, kissed her, and threw himself on his horse.