Bertha almost swooned; I caught her in my arms. She collected herself and hurried towards the door; it was closed. Annette called to us from within, that we should wait quietly, for it was a critical moment. What anxious moments were those, while we stood at the door listening to the movements and groans within. After a while, the surgeon hastily opened the door, and said, "Now go away softly! There has been a hemorrhage, and the ball has come with it. There is now a chance of his recovery, but I must insist on perfect quiet!" Bertha sank to the floor, while she placed her finger on her lips, and motioned me to be silent. They say that we were only waiting a quarter of an hour. But oh! how long it seemed! Then the surgeon opened the door again, and, seeing Bertha on the floor, said, "You may go in now and shake hands with the Colonel, but do not say anything to him, as he is not allowed to speak for the present." Bertha went in. She reached her hand to her husband. He moved his eyes in recognition; then the surgeon motioned us to depart. We went away. From afar, we could hear the rattle of musketry and the roar of artillery, and the reports constantly became louder and more frequent. CHAPTER XVI. Evening was approaching, when the surgeon sent us word that his patient had been sleeping. He had awakened and asked for Bertha and me. We went to him. He could only recognize us by glances, and a wonderful smile overspread his features. He turned his eyes to the surgeon, who understood him, and said, "Yes, your wife may sit here for a quarter of an hour. But you must both be perfectly quiet." And so we sat there speechless, and heard the din of battle gradually cease; only occasional shots were now fired. I was called to the front of the house. Martella and Rothfuss stood before me. Martella, breathless, told me that Ernst's company had again been in the fight, many were missing, and, among them, Ernst; he ought to be hunted up. Rothfuss desired that I should stay behind; but Martella exclaimed, seizing my arm, "What do you mean? Father goes with us!" She had made a wreath to take to Ernst, and she held it in her trembling hands. She carried Ernst's prize-cup and a bottle of wine in a basket on her arm. We went through the village towards the hill. Four men approached with a litter. "Ernst! Ernst!" cried Martella. The two men stopped, and one asked, "Who's there? Who calls?" It was Ikwarte's voice. "Set it down!" commanded the other. "Isn't that Martella?" It was Wolfgang who spoke. We stepped nearer. They carried a man who had been shot in the leg. The man raised his head, and said, "That is his father." It was the son of the owner of the saw-mill down in the valley. "He commissioned me to carry his love to you. He made himself known to me." "Where is he? Is he dead?" "He must be lying up there. Oh! he has done great things."