He looked weary and broken as he went out at the door. In a thoughtless moment he had destroyed his one chance of happiness. That moment he must expiate, and he knew he was strong enough to bear the burden. But it seemed to him that it was not this alone that had decided his fate. He felt as though a grey veil had descended over his whole future; even over all that in his imagination had elevated him above the more sordid chances of destiny. Could this be because that star to which the doctor had pointed him was losing its brilliancy? Gloomily he trod the woodland path to the town. Down below in a field behind the barracks an old sergeant was giving the assistant trumpeters a lesson. The lads blew forth a horribly ill-tuned unison. Then the sergeant set his own trumpet to his lips, and the notes of the dismissal rang clearly through the air:-- [Illustration: (musical score)] The signal that in the man[oe]uvres indicated the close of each evolution. CHAPTER XIV After eighteen months of service Gustav Weise was made bombardier. Captain von Wegstetten thought this would now be a safe experiment with the erstwhile social-democrat. But more non-commissioned officers were still required. Sergeant Wiegandt had gone away on April 1: Wegstetten's best non-com., and now the blissful husband of the beaming Frieda. He would have been made deputy sergeant-major very shortly; but not even this prospect had been sufficient to retain him. At Michaelmas two more non-commissioned officers would obtain their discharge; Heppner was dead; Heimert was in a mad-house; there were strange faces everywhere, instead of the old tried experienced men. And even so there were not enough of them. In this embarrassment Wegstetten bethought himself of Vogt. He was an honest steady lad, on whom one could depend. All his superiors praised him, and, besides, he had good blood in his veins, inherited from his father, the brave old sergeant, with his iron cross and his medal for bravery. Vogt did not prove to be particularly willing. Every plough in its furrow, every mower deftly at work, awakened in him longings for his old agricultural pursuits. He wore his uniform with a good grace; there was no help for it, and grumbling would have only made the life harder. But to stay on longer than necessary--for that he had no hankering. Wegstetten knew how to tackle his men. He talked glibly to the gunner about the honour and distinction to be won as a non-commissioned officer, not forgetting to observe how much the father at home would rejoice to see the son following in his footsteps. Vogt asked his father's advice, and the turnpike-keeper wrote back: "Jump at your captain's offer, my lad. As an old soldier, I am very glad to think of my boy as a non-commissioned officer. Never mind about me. The pleasure you give me will make me young and strong, so that I shall be able to keep the place going till you come home again at last."