"That's just what I told the captain," put in Heimert. "It's all Wegstetten's doing. I wanted Cyrus for the wheel, and old Turk for the baggage-waggon, but as the other five are light bays, Wegstetten insisted on having the Turk, That's why he has put Sickel on him, our best driver. He thought _he'd_ make him go at any rate, if the worst came to the worst." Heppner remained thoughtful. At last he said, "Yes; but then old Turk hasn't much more go left in him. Don't you think we could arrange it differently?" "No," answered the deputy sergeant-major; "you know that when Wegstetten has once got a thing into his head there's nothing more to be done." The sergeant-major shrugged his shoulders. "We two, at any rate," he said, "won't have the responsibility. I only hope it will turn out all right! We've got some damned hilly country for the man[oe]uvres this time, as it happens. One part lies close to the frontier, and is over 2000 feet high. Downright mountain-artillery I call it!" he growled in conclusion. But it was impossible to oppose the express orders of the captain. On August 30 the battery was ready in the barrack square at six o'clock in the morning to start for the man[oe]uvres. Shortly after reveille various rumours had been current in the stables and in the barrack-rooms that something had happened at the Heppners'; and just as the men were getting into their places the news spread from one to the other that the sergeant-major's wife was dead. As this was a private and personal matter, it could not give cause for the slightest delay. Heppner, of course, remained at home for the funeral, and Käppchen meanwhile took over his duties as sergeant-major. However, it considerably damped the spirits of the men in setting out; and a fine rain which began to fall did not tend to restore their good humour. The sixth battery marched just behind the corps of trumpeters; but the inspiriting strains of the Hohenfriedberger March were entirely out of harmony with the moody faces of the men and the dismal weather. Klitzing again sat next to Vogt on the limber of gun six. How unlike the day on which they had started for the gun-practice at Whitsuntide! "It's a bad beginning," said he to his friend; and half to himself he added, "Who knows how it will end?" The rain gradually became heavier, and at the first halt the colonel ordered the men to put on their cloaks. The gunners, huddled up in their seats, kept fairly dry; but the riders got their high boots full of water, so that as they went up and down in their saddles their feet splashed with a sound like butter in a churn. During the longest halt the drivers lay on their backs in the grass, and as they stretched their legs up in the air, the water trickled down out of their boots in streams.