Friedrich August Vogt and his twin sister had been born in 1840, the little-prized children of an unmarried mother, who had vanished one day and left no trace. Probably she had died in a ditch. The children were taken into an orphanage, on leaving which the girl had gone to service, while the boy had become a soldier and climbed the ladder of promotion to the rank of sergeant, receiving the silver medal for bravery, and at St. Privat the iron cross. In command over others he proved strict and just; and though assuming an outwardly harsh, bearish manner, he looked after those who were under him with indefatigable and almost fatherly care. His whole endeavour throughout those fifteen years had been to stand blameless, not only in the eyes of his superiors, but, what was more important still, in his own. His comrades disliked the quiet, serious man, and Vogt himself was just as little drawn to their frivolous ways; nor had women any attraction for him. He was sufficient unto himself, and looked neither for friend nor wife; but though he had grown up independent of love, he yet craved to win for himself some modest amount of grateful recognition within the narrow limits of the service, and he felt richly rewarded if a reservist when bidding good-bye gripped his hand and muttered a few clumsy words of gratitude. Of such were many good-for-nothings whom he had saved from dangerous follies and their inevitable punishment, not by rough words, but by kindly counsel. When he eventually doffed his uniform he had nothing with which to reproach himself; no neglect and no overstepping of duty, no injustice and no improper leniency; he had good cause for self-satisfaction. He was given the post of turnpike-keeper in recognition of his good service, and could then carry out a long-cherished wish: he took his sister to live with him. But he did not long enjoy her companionship. She left him after but a few years, during which she succeeded--not without difficulty--in bringing some sort of brightness into the life of her grave brother. She foresaw that he would in all probability lapse into deeper and deeper gloom when she was no longer there; and on her deathbed she joined his hand with that of a girl some years younger than herself, with whom she had struck up a firm friendship. They respected the wishes of the dead, married, and lived together happily, thinking themselves the most fortunate of mortals when a son was born to them. But August Vogt was doomed to loneliness, for his wife died when the boy was just old enough to go to school.