The Colonel led his regiment independently and separated from the Prussians, and it was a piece of jealousy, and the ambition to distinguish himself, that caused him to press forward so recklessly and thrust himself in danger's way. He had to march over a plain, to take a battery planted on a height, and it was there that he was struck. When he had fallen, and saw death before him, he exclaimed, "The Romans were right; it is glorious to die for one's country. I want no other grave; let me be buried with my soldiers." Then for a long while he was unconscious. After a little while Rolunt came to us, and said that the Colonel was unable to speak, but by his glances had shown that he recognized him. Bertha begged for the dress of a nurse, so that she could at least venture into the sick-room. She promised not to go near her sick husband. But the doctor emphatically forbade it. There was no certainty that the wounded man would not recognize her, if only by her step or carriage. He almost feared that the sick man might suspect something from the presence of the Professor; for he opened and shut his eyes so quickly. And so we had to wait and listen, and were condemned to inactivity. We met still another friend: Baron Arven. He had forgotten his own griefs, was restlessly active and appeared wondrously rejuvenated. In an hour he had to go to another hospital, and transferred to us his quarters, in which we could rest. Bertha said she could not sleep; but consented to lie down and rest herself, in order to gather strength for what might be in store for her. She lay down and was soon fast asleep. She often moved convulsively, as if troubled with fearful dreams, but still continued to slumber. I at last also fell asleep. Towards morning, I was awakened by a loud voice: "I must see him; I have found him." Is not that the voice of Rothfuss? Yes, it was. Bertha also awoke, and asked, "Where are we? Has the train stopped?" I explained to her where we were. With difficulty, she collected herself. She went directly with us to the house where the Colonel lay, and remained with Annette. She heard that the Colonel had also slept, and Annette, who had sat with him, remarked, he had lightly whispered, "Bertha;" he must suspect that she is here. Rothfuss took me aside and said, "We have him and her also." "Yes, the Colonel and Bertha." "No, no! Ernst and Martella. 'The Lord God is the best child's nurse for wild lads,' my mother has often said." I felt as if reason had forsaken me. CHAPTER XIII. Only gradually did I clearly comprehend all that had happened to me. I can no longer count the shots, nor specify whence or by whom they were discharged against me, and how it was that I remained unharmed. But I have passed through it all, and must also permit you to experience it.