The little one smiled at him expectantly and nodded his head.  The colonel continued: 

“You believe, no doubt, children, that no one ever came back from the dead, and that therefore no mortal knows what Heaven looks like, nor Hell.  But I—­look at me well—­I can tell you something about it.”

Here he made a short pause while my wife handed him his pipe and a match.  The children looked at one another in doubt and suspicion, for this was the first story of the colonel which had not begun with, “Here I am,” or, “Once upon a time,” and they were consequently uncertain whether it was a true story or one that he had made up.  Wolfgang, who is thirteen and my oldest boy, and who already calls his younger brothers, “the young ones,” —­and promises to be a true child of the times, inclined to believe it the latter, but even he sat up straighter and looked puzzled as the colonel continued: 

“The two balls that I have in here, and the sabre cut on my shoulder,—­ but you know how and where I received them—­to be brief, I sank from my horse onto the grass in the afternoon, and not until the following morning was I found by the ambulance corps and carried to the hospital.  There they brought me to life again.  In the interim—­which lasted for the half of a day and one whole night—­I was certainly not alive like one of you, or any other two-legged creature endowed with five senses.”

With these words his penetrating eyes glanced from Karl to Kurt; the girls caught hold of one another’s hands and one could plainly read in their expressions that they considered it rash to be in such close proximity to a person who had erstwhile been dead.  It was fortunate for them that the resuscitated colonel was so good, and that there was no doubt about his actual existence, which was proved by his voice and the smoke that he puffed into the air during every pause.

“Yes, children,” he began anew, “a great wonder was worked on me, an old man.  This long body here lay on the bloody ground among groaning men, dying horses, broken gun-carriages, ammunition wagons, exploded bombshells, and discarded weapons; but my soul—­I cannot have been too hardened a sinner in this world—­my soul was permitted to soar to Heaven.  One, two, three, as fast as you can say, ‘That is an apple,’ or ‘The fair Ina has a pretty doll in her lap,’ and it had arrived.  And now—­I can see it in your eyes—­you would like to know how it seems in Heaven, and God knows I cannot blame you, for it is beautiful, marvellously beautiful, only unfortunately I am not allowed even to attempt its description.  That must ever remain a mystery to the living because—­but that is no matter, and evil would befall me if I were to chatter.”

At this point the colonel was interrupted by many expressions of disappointment, but he was resolute, and continued in a peremptory tone: