"Let us go then!" cried the king, touching his horse with the spur; it bounded forwards so rapidly that Major Schweppe had some difficulty in holding the guiding rein. Their rapid pace soon brought them to the hill, near which the reserve cavalry were placed. The king rode on to the highest point. His suite surrounded him, some dismounted, and followed the movements of the troops with field-glasses and telescopes. The carriages were drawn up in a large semicircle. The king stood motionless. Not a feature of his pale, noble face changed. The adjutant-general informed him of the course of the fighting as far as it could be made out, the gentlemen of the suite sometimes expressed by loud shouts the result of their observations, but generally they imparted to each other in low tones their hopes and fears. Whilst this was going on at head-quarters, the Duke of Cambridge's dragoon regiment had been employed since the early morning in outpost duty near the village of Hemingsleben, on the road leading from Langensalza to Gotha. Before the village was the toll-house with its black and white bar raised, and beside it stood the most advanced outpost. Lieutenant von Stolzenberg commanded the outpost, and with him was his somewhat younger comrade Lieutenant von Wendenstein. The morning sun shone brightly, and the two young officers stood near their horses, gazing over the plain, which spread far around them, and which was crossed by the grey band of the high road. Some straw lay on the ground, but none of the provisions appeared which, on the evening of their march into Göttingen, the young men had obtained for their supper. With a weary, half-sleepy look, Wendenstein drew out his pocket flask, took a good drink and handed it to his companion. Then taking a piece of black bread from his pocket, and breaking it up, he slowly swallowed one morsel after another. "Do you know, Stolzenberg," he said, with a slight shiver, "this sort of warfare in the chill of dawn makes one feel far from courageous. We did not think of such campaigning as this when we started." He gave his horse a piece of bread moistened with brandy. "No, indeed!" said Stolzenberg with a sigh, as he took a sip from the flask. "But where the devil did you get that horrid liquor from?" "I found it at the inn in the village. What can you do? When your cognac is at an end, you must put up with potato spirit. It is a shame that we have nothing to eat and drink; there is plenty, but the provision column never comes up, and when one has a hope of getting something, the alarm is given; it is 'forwards!' again." "Forwards!" cried Stolzenberg, "I think we have not been going forwards for long enough. And the beautiful flocks of sheep we saw on both sides of the roads, and which we dare not touch for our lives! Donnerwetter!" he cried, stamping his foot; "to be in an enemy's country and not to be allowed to requisition the necessaries of life is too much!"