"Why, what's the matter?" cried Father Stenne, coming into the bedroom.
The lad could bear it no longer; he jumped out of bed, and was about to throw himself at his father's feet when the silver coins rolled out upon the floor.
"What's this? Have you robbed anyone?" asked the old soldier in a tremulous voice.
Then, all in a breath, little Stenne told him how he had gone to the Prussian lines and what he had done. As he continued to speak the weight on his heart grew less—it was a relief to accuse himself. Father Stenne listened; his face was terrible to see. When the lad had finished his narrative the old man buried his face in his hands and wept aloud.
"Oh, father! father!"—
The boy would have spoken, but the old man pushed him aside, and picked up the money without a word.
"Is this all?" he asked.
Little Stenne made a sign in the affirmative. The old soldier took down his musket and cartouche-box, and putting the silver money in his pocket, said calmly:
"Very well; I am going to pay it back to them!"