The Baron rode off just as the letter-carrier arrived. He brought me a letter from my sister-in-law, who lives in the forest of Hagenau. She wrote to tell me that, on account of the war, her daughter's marriage had been hastened, and that, as there was danger that the incendiaries might come, she had instructed her daughter to remain at Strasburg, to which place she had sent all her stores of linen and other valuables. In case any of our ladies were alarmed, she would be willing, she wrote, to place them under protection at Strasburg. About that time, we had sorrow in our house on account of the death of old Balbina. She had been our faithful servant for thirty years. When we attempted to console her by saying that she would recover from her illness, she would answer, "Don't mind me; I shall go to my good mistress, and she will give me the best place." It was not until after my wife's death that I learned how much she had done for this servant, for then Balbina said to me: "I was very wicked, but she converted me." "Wicked? why, what could you have done?" "I committed a theft when I had only been in the house a week. She caught me and spoke to me in private, saying: 'Balbina, I dare not send you off; for then you will steal from others, just as you have done here. I must keep you with us until you conquer this habit.' And it turned out just as she said, for during the thirty years I've lived in this house, my hands and lips have never touched a morsel that was not mine." Balbina died without receiving extreme unction. She regarded her confession to my wife as having fully absolved her. We never interfered with the religious opinions of our servants, but when the priest told Balbina that Protestants would not go to heaven, she answered, "I don't want to go to any other heaven but the one where my mistress is." We were now on the high road towards political unity, but was not the antagonism in religious matters greater than ever before? Ludwig wrote to Conny, informing her that he would soon return. She often told me that her father, had, until his dying hour, cherished a love of the Fatherland, and that no two men had ever had more beautiful and affectionate relations with each other than Ludwig and her father. Their projected journey to Italy was out of the question. How could they now find pleasure in works of art? Ludwig would not rest content until he could, in some way, be of service to his country. Suddenly, there was great commotion in the village and cries of "The French are coming!" were heard. Lerz the baker had been driving along the valley-road at full tilt, and had called out to the people who were working in the fields, "Unhitch your horses! the French are coming!" They took the animals from their wagons and ploughs and hurried homeward. But it soon turned out that the news was false.