'Yes, when we were storming a mitrailleuse battery.' 'Did you see him fall?' 'No, Herr Graf. The smoke was thick, and I was on the left of the line, he on the right, in Schönforst's company. Poor Schönforst--he fell there, literally torn to shreds!' 'What certainty is there that Here Pierrepont was wounded at all?' asked the Count, very desirous to learn that it was all over with poor Charlie, while Ernestine hung on her brother's words in agony. 'His company saw him struck. He was leading them bravely on after Schönforst's death. Our doctor patched up his wound in some fashion; but on returning at night, could find no trace of him.' 'Where was the wound?' asked Ernestine, with quivering lips. 'In the breast--we shall hear all about it ere long,' continued Heinrich, putting an arm kindly round his sister. 'He is doubtless in some of the many hospitals that are near the fields where we have been fighting.' 'Bah! the Herr Englander has probably tired of fighting, gone home to his own country, and will trouble Prussia no more!' said the Countess. Heinrich thought it much more probable that he had crawled away somewhere and died unseen, or, to judge from his own experience, been murdered by the peasantry; but he kept these ideas to himself. On the first opportunity when they were alone, Ernestine had a thousand questions to ask Heinrich; but to the fate--the disappearance of Pierrepont, he could not give the faintest clue, though to feed her hopes, when he had none, he drew largely on his imagination; for he knew that unless Charlie were dead, or most severely wounded indeed, and quite helpless, which we have shown him to be, he would have put himself in communication with the nearest Prussian military authorities. So, from the day of Heinrich's return, the health and spirits of Ernestine sank painfully and visibly. Summer had passed away, and the tints of autumn, brown and yellow, russet and orange, stole over the woodlands around the old Schloss and the beautiful dingles of the Reichswald. In vain were daily drives in the open carriage resorted to, and in vain were doctors consulted; the cheek of Ernestine grew paler and thinner; her roundness of form was passing away, and the once lovely hand becoming all but transparent. Had sure tidings come that Charlie had been killed outright, and, was actually dead, she might have got over the shock; but the suspense of not knowing where he was, how circumstanced, how mutilated, whether in his grave or still lingering in the land of the living, proved too much for a girl so sensitively organized as Ernestine. One fact was certain, as Heinrich's letters from the Thuringians assured her, that nothing had been heard of him by the regiment as yet. Owing to her state of health, the Countess's favourite topic and plan of the marriage was abandoned for the time, and in that matter she obtained some temporary relief.