"Bring him in, bring him in!" cried the old gentleman, and the old peasant Deyke came in amongst the excited group, looking as calm and dignified as usual, but with a deep and gloomy gravity spread over his sharp features. "Well, dear Deyke," cried the president, "have you heard the news; do you come to consult with us how to send in the quickest way all that our brave soldiers need?" "I have received a letter from my Fritz," said the peasant solemnly, whilst he respectfully took the hand held out to him by the president. "Well, and how does the brave young fellow get on? cried the old gentleman. "Has he seen my son?" asked Madame von Wendenstein, gazing at the peasant with anxious eyes. "He has found the lieutenant," he replied, laconically. "And my son lives?" cried the poor lady with hesitation. She feared to hear the answer which must touch the inmost string of her heart. "He lives," said old Deyke. "I wish to say a couple of words to the president alone," he stammered. "No!" cried Madame von Wendenstein, vehemently, "no, not alone. Deyke, you have some bad news, but I will hear it; I am strong enough to hear anything, but I cannot bear suspense. I beg you," she continued, looking affectionately at her husband, "to let me hear what he has to tell." The president looked undecided. The pastor came forward slowly. "Permit your wife to hear the tidings, whatever they may be, my old friend," he said, gravely and quietly. "Your son lives, that is the first and most important point; whatever may be to come, cannot be too hard for a true and pious heart, like our friend's, to bear." Madame von Wendenstein looked gratefully at the clergyman. Old Deyke slowly drew out a paper. "The president will perhaps look at my son's letter?" "Give it to me," said the pastor; "it belongs to God's servant, an old friend of this house, to impart this message." He took the paper and walked to the window, through which the last light of the waning day entered the room. Madame von Wendenstein with widely opened eyes hung on his lips. Helena sat at the table with her head resting on her hand, calm and apparently indifferent; her eyes were cast down; it seemed doubtful whether she saw or heard anything passing around her. Slowly the pastor read,-- "My dear Father, "I write at once that you may have news of me, and, thank God, I am well and cheerful; I fell in with the army at Langensalza, and enlisted in the cuirassier guards, and took part in the great battle, and went under a hot fire, but I came out safe and sound. We were victorious, and took two cannon and many prisoners, but to-day we are surrounded by superior numbers, and the generals have said we could not march. So the king capitulated, and we are all coming home. My heart is almost broken when I look at all our brave soldiers going back with the white staff in their hands, and they don't look such cowardly creatures either.