So Vogt signed on for another year. But directly he found himself committed he began to regret his decision. He had been very lonely in the battery since his comrade Klitzing's death. He had not felt inclined to strike up a friendship with any one else; none of them were quite his sort. Despite his good nature, Truchsess was a lazy obtuse kind of fellow. Count Plettau, to be sure, was different; for though one never quite knew whether he was in jest or earnest, still one could have something like rational conversation with him. And Plettau took a real interest in the sturdy peasant lad, in whom he recognised an outlook on life so different from his own as to fill him with constant amazement. He told Vogt about the peasants of his own Westphalian home, who in many cases had lived on their land from generation to generation, and knew no higher source of pride than to call themselves peasant-farmers. Then Vogt's eyes would brighten up. These men of the red mother-earth were people after his own heart. "Yes," he said, "so it should be everywhere in Germany: Peasant farm by peasant farm, Then shall none have hunger or harm!" Vogt was grateful to the count for talking to him so sensibly and kindly; but still things were totally changed: he could not find any one to replace his faithful friend Klitzing. The poor fellow felt more and more lonely every day. In addition to this he had many vexations to bear when on duty. Captain von Wegstetten and Lieutenant Reimers, who certainly both knew their business well, had always shown themselves satisfied with him; but a new senior-lieutenant was imported into the battery, a certain Brettschneider, who was always pulling Vogt up and finding fault with him. Senior-lieutenant Brettschneider came from the Staff College, and the non-commissioned officers whispered it about that he was considered no end of a swell. Well, he might be clever and smart enough; but, nevertheless, the new officer was not infallible. When the exercises were going on he could make mistakes like every one else. One thing was certain: he was tremendously well-set-up. He always stood as straight and stiff as a ramrod, and he could scarcely turn his carefully groomed head, so high was his collar! Moreover, his pink, clean-shaven face never for one moment lost its expression of haughty disdain. The men avoided him as far as they could, for one seldom came near him without being called back and found fault with; and everybody--non-coms. and all--felt exasperated by the young man's conceited behaviour. Devil take the fellow! Wegstetten and Reimers certainly did not make themselves cheap with the men. But when things were going right, they always had time for a word of praise and an appreciative smile. Even the sharp eyes of little Wegstetten could look quite good-humoured on occasion. But Senior-lieutenant Brettschneider always remained stand-offish, looking as if he had swallowed a poker.