Jane began to pace excitedly up and down the room; she strove to repel this thought, but ever and ever again it would return. She heard only the words he had spoken in gloomy resignation: "I have no one; I stand alone in the world!" She pressed her hand against her breast, as if that agony had found an echo there.--Perhaps she ought now to confess this to him. The old obstinacy again towered up in all its uncontrollable might, she stamped violently as if beside herself. "No, and no! and forever no!" CHAPTER XIV. Farewell! The afternoon passed in hasty preparations for the departure of the two soldiers; at last all was arranged, and with the early twilight, Frederic, ready for the journey, betook himself to the doctor and his wife, to say good-by. The poor fellow looked very melancholy; around his broad mouth was a quiver of pain: it was with great difficulty he kept back his tears. Neither the heavy package of money the doctor handed him nor the promise of the doctor's wife to care for him in the field, could console him. "For shame, Frederic!" said Doctor Stephen, chidingly. "Is that the way to go to war? With such a sorrowful mien, with tearful eyes? I should have believed you had more courage." Frederic, deeply wounded, wiped the tears from his eyes, and at length, comprehending the full meaning of the reproach, he cried excitedly: "Do you think, Herr Doctor, that I am afraid? It is a real delight to me to take the musket on my shoulder, and go to war. But my poor master! This is going to cost him his life, even before he meets the enemy." "Well, that is by no means certain," said the doctor, while Frau Stephen, who was entirely of Frederic's opinion, pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. "Perhaps he will hold out better than we all think. I tell you once more, he is not so very ill as you imagine, and this soldier-life will tear him away from his studies, which, in any event, is a fortunate thing." "He will not endure it," persisted Frederic with a mournful shake of the head; "he certainly will not endure it! At the very first march, he will lie in the hospital; and if I am not with him to take care of him, he will surely die. And for all this"--here that fearful, bearish nature, so deplored by Mr. Atkins, broke forth anew in Frederic,--"and for all this, those accursed Frenchmen are guilty,--I--I am going to kill a dozen at least for it!" "Well, well; wait until you are in France!" cried the doctor, retreating from the furious pantomime Frederic enacted after these words. "You certainly will have to wait before you can offer such a propitiatory sacrifice to the manes of your master. So far as I know, he has served his year in the volunteer army, and he still remains alive."