Leuchtmar at once understood Stephen’s strange conduct: he was on his way to Wallenstein’s army. Leuchtmar rode by the side of the Prince with a serious face, for the latter several times looked at him inquiringly. It was an embarrassing situation for him. What should he do? Pass over the whole matter in silence? He considered it from every point of view. At last, he said: “Stephen has run away from his parents. Sooner or later he will regret it. He is going to the foreign war, and remember, Prince, it is a foreign war. We are not at war with any one.” His words did not wholly allay the Prince’s disquiet, for Stephen had said he would restore to his parents everything that the war took from them; and this clearly indicated war in that neighborhood. Leuchtmar was not unaware of that statement, and it made it all the harder for him to decide what to do. Should he ride on to the mill? He feared what might be said then; but they were already so near it that they could hear the barking of the miller’s dog. Suddenly he stopped and said: “Prince, I shall be a poor consoler for Stephen’s parents. I would rather ride over here a few days hence.” Both turned their horses, but before they had gone far they saw the miller hurrying along the footpath. He was already close to them. It would not be polite to run away from the old man, Leuchtmar said to himself, and stopped. The Prince followed his example. The gray-haired miller accosted them. “My son, my son,” he moaned, “have you met him on the road, Herr Prince?” The Prince replied: “Yes, my good man, we met your Stephen. He was about to pass us without a word, but at last he called to me and asked me to console you and tell you he would restore everything that the war might take from you.” “Alas!” exclaimed the old man, “it is just as I thought. The wicked boy! He has joined hands with the devil and left his old parents, who will soon go to the grave in sorrow.” “But what put such an idea into his head?” asked Leuchtmar.