Egon von Adelsberg little thought that every glance, every tone had been inspired by the memory of another, and that the invitation to repeat his visit had only been spoken because the fair chatelaine of Ostwalden hoped to hear from her guest the news of a distant wanderer.

CHAPTER XIV.

It was midsummer in the warm and pleasant month of July, when the world, which lay in such dreamy, peaceful repose, was suddenly awakened in affright as from a deep sleep.  From the Rhine to the sea and back again to the Alps, there blazed an unearthly lightning flash followed by distant thunder-roar, and from the west the heavy war cloud descended upon the land; while the cry of “War!  War!  War with France!” re-echoed throughout all Germany.

It came like a whirlwind upon the South Germans,—­tearing men from their homes, changing plans so carefully laid, and parting many who made them, forever.  Where all had been so calm but one short week before, everything was now confusion and excitement.  At Fuerstenstein where the daughter of the house was happy with her lover, all was bustle now, for the lover must leave at once to join his regiment.  At Waldhofen where Willibald was expected, he appeared suddenly in hot haste to spend with Marietta the few days which intervened before he marched to the front.  At Ostwalden, Adelheid was making hasty preparations to start for the North, in order that she might clasp her brother once more in her arms, before he, too, joined the troops.  Prince Adelsberg had left at the first sound, and was in the city as soon as the duke.  The world had changed its face altogether in a few short hours.

Willibald was in the little garden of Waldhofen, speaking earnestly and impressively to the old doctor, who sat upon the rustic bench, but who hardly seemed persuaded by the younger man’s eloquence.

“But, Will, it seems very precipitate,” he said, shaking his head, “your betrothal to Marietta has never been made public, and now you are going to be married.  What will the world say?”

“Under existing circumstances the world will say it was the proper thing to do,” Will answered, emphatically.  “Though we need not care what it says.  I must go to the war, and it is my duty to make Marietta’s future secure before I go.  I couldn’t endure the thought that she’d have to return to the stage if I should die, nor be left to the tender mercies of my mother; the fortune which I shall inherit is in her hands, and she will guard it carefully.  I have only the estate of Burgsdorf, which if I should die, goes to a distant branch of the family.  According to the old family law and custom, however, the widow of the heir has a rich dower.  I want Marietta to have my name, and I can then go to the field feeling assured that her future will be well provided for.”