Early one morning Prince Adelsberg drove over to Ostwalden.

He had obtained a day’s leave that he might give some necessary orders at Rodeck, but it was toward Ostwalden not Rodeck that he ordered the horses’ heads to be turned.  He came to say good-bye to Adelheid, whom he had not seen again since that first visit.

When he reached Ostwalden, he found its mistress away on some errand of mercy, and he was ushered into a reception room to await her return.  He paced the room restlessly, thinking of many things, of the struggle for life or death which lay before him, of the morrow’s march, but mainly of the beautiful woman whose face had warmed with fire and sympathetic light while discussing his friend, of her dignity, her goodness and gentleness, and his heart was filled with the hope that he might take with him some word, some assurance to make him feel that when the strife was over he could return to peace—­and her.  He had no foreboding that the warmth and fire had not been from sympathy with him.

But in spite of everything, a shadow lay upon the sunny young face.  It was not the war which troubled him, he went into that heart and soul, with no presentiments, and with all the ardor of youth.  He dreamed and planned a happy future when all the excitement and turmoil were over.

Then the door opened and Frau von Wallmoden entered.

“I beg your pardon for keeping your highness waiting so long,” she said after the first greeting.  “The servants told you, perhaps, that a member of the household was dying.”

“I heard that one of the men about the place was very ill,” Egon answered as he hastened toward her.

“Yes, poor Tanner.  He was formerly a tutor somewhere in this neighborhood, but his health failed, and Herr von Schoenau recommended him to my late husband.  He has been here ever since we bought the place.  He told me the other day how thankful his mother was that he had so easy a position.  Since Herr von Wallmoden’s death, nothing further has been done towards a library here, and Tanner was to have had special charge of that, so that except to act as my secretary occasionally, there has been literally nothing for him to do.  Only yesterday I obtained the necessary papers for him to enter the army, and he was all enthusiasm over the prospect.  This morning he had a severe hemorrhage, and now the physician says he cannot live an hour.  It seems terrible to see a young life cut off so suddenly without any warning.”  The young mistress sighed deeply as she finished her sad little story.

After a minute’s pause, Egon said quietly: 

“I have come to say good-bye.  We march to-morrow or next day, and I could not go without seeing you once again.  I am fortunate in finding you here; some one said you were going away.”

“Yes, I go to Berlin at once.  Ostwalden is too isolated; I want to be near the centre where I can receive the latest news at this exciting time.  My brother fights for the flag, you know, and I must be where I can hear from him.”