The advanced sentinels were posted for the night, and under the shelter of a shattered cottage wall. Charlie Pierrepont, Heinrich, and Captain Schönforst congratulated each other that they all escaped untouched, and sat down amid the _debris_ of what had once been a cabbage-garden, to enjoy an humble repast, some German sausage, a few slices of bread, and the contents of their water-bottles, dashed with cognac. The telegram which, on that same evening, the Baron Rhineberg so duly reported at Frankenburg, thereby piercing, as with a poniard, the heart of Ernestine, was correct in some of its details, as the _first_ man killed in the Franco-Prussian war was an Englishman--but not Charlie. Prior to the affair at Saarbrück, twenty Baden troopers, led by a Mr. Winslow, made a dash into France at Lauterburg, and galloping on as far as Niederbronn, in open daylight, cut all the telegraph wires along the line of railway there. They halted next morning to breakfast at a French farmhouse, when they were surprised, and, in the combat that ensued, Winslow was cut down and slain. The terror and anxiety of Ernestine were, however, short-lived, as Heinrich's letter, written next morning, contained an enclosure for her that gave her a blessed relief. CHAPTER XIII. THE DREAM IN THE BIVOUAC. In talking over the stirring events of the past day, Captain Schönforst sat drawing out his fair fly-away whiskers to their full length, and then stuffing them into his mouth, as if to stifle his indignation at the Emperor Napoleon, for, like many other German officers at this time, he was loud in condemning him for bringing the Prince Imperial, a mere boy, under fire. 'You forget, Herr Captain,' said Charlie, 'that princes have a great political game to play in this world, and that the heir of a throne should always be a soldier.' 'But a boy--a mere boy--to be brought into action!' persisted the Captain. 'Well. The sooner his nerves are strung, the better, I think; and we must remember that boys are employed in navies as well as in armies, and it is no more inhuman to have a prince under fire than a midshipman or drummer boy.' So the worthy captain was convinced, though much against his will. We have no intention of afflicting the reader with a history of the terrible Franco-Prussian war; but we cannot omit the details of some of those events in which Charlie Pierrepont and his comrades, the Thuringians, bore a share. Serious disasters followed the slight success won by the French at Saarbrück, when the Crown Prince of Prussia, two days after, made a furious attack on their right flank, which rested on a high hill called the Geisberg, just within the frontier of France and a little south-east of Saarbrück. All round the Geisberg the country is hilly and woody, with cultivated fields, detached cottages nestling among vines and flowers, and here and there pretty little hamlets.