The sergeant-major muttered something unintelligible. If it had depended on him the house would not now have been empty and the furniture-van before the door. It was his wife who had worried him into it, and yet now probably she would begin to snivel. Indeed, she had just taken her handkerchief out of her pocket and raised it to her eyes, when suddenly her face changed: "Good gracious! our bean-poles are still in the garden! I'm not going to leave them behind. Fancy it's only occurring to me now!" She was hurrying out. But the sergeant-major got in the way and held up his watch in her face. "Look here!" he said. "If you don't stir your stumps you'll miss your train." She was alarmed: "Good heavens, yes, of course! I'm going. Good bye, Schumann! Look after everything, and--and--good bye." Standing on tiptoe she reached up for a kiss from her husband and was quickly out of the door. Schumann drew a long breath. She was his dear wife, but now that he had to say farewell to the battery he preferred to be alone, without her. He stood still in the doorway. A driver had just brought two horses out of the stable and was harnessing them to the furniture van. Schumann had not taken much to do with the horses of late years; he knew that they were thoroughly well cared for under Heppner's superintendence, and the deputy sergeant-major was rather apt to resent any interference with his department. But he would have failed in his duty if he had not, in spite of this, kept himself informed of all that concerned the horses; if, in fact, he had not been individually acquainted with each one of them. Sergeant Schumann went down the steps. He must begin his leave-taking--so he would first say good-bye to the horses. Slowly he passed between the stalls. At that moment the strong smell of the stable seemed to him more delicious than the most fragrant scent, more delicious than the resinous forest breeze which blew through the valley where the little station of the mountain railway lay surrounded by pine woods. There stood the beautiful creatures side by side in splendid condition and with coats like satin. Nearly all of them were dark bay, and according to temperament they stood stolidly staring before them, or pawed impatiently at the straw, or playfully bit and teased each other. Only four stalls were empty. "Sybille" and "Achat" were drawing his belongings to the station. Another pair had been borrowed by Major Schrader, who had been invited to a hunting party on a neighbouring estate.