We who lived on the borders were delighted beyond measure to know that Alsace-Lorraine had been brought home to us again; and when I was speaking with my folks about it, Rothfuss remarked: "Now I know how it worked. Those who live along the Rhine, from Basle downward, felt the way you do, when you lie abed in winter time and have too narrow a blanket. Whenever you move, you are uncovered and get cold. Now we have a good double bed; now we can stretch ourselves, and, over there, stand the Vosges mountains; that is a good solid wall; no draft gets through that." CHAPTER VIII. The ides of March had returned as they had twenty-three years before, but how different now! We stood on a basis of real power, which had been wrested in battle from our restless neighbor. The armistice with the enemy without was concluded, but at the polls we had to struggle against adversaries within. The best men of our district came and explained to me how false a game was being played. "They are electioneering for Schweitzer-Schmalz, who would not be so bad a man, but, at the last moment, they mean to drop him and transfer the votes to Funk, who has acquired a considerable fortune by the war." The men urged me, and Schwarzenberg, the lumber merchant, was not the least among them, to allow myself to be put up as a candidate, both as a matter of right and duty. He claimed that I, who had assisted at the vexatious and fruitless labors at Frankfort, should have the nomination. Only in that way, could the defeat of the Funk party be assured. I told them what trouble I had, and that I was too old, and unequal to the duties the office would impose upon me. Then the burgomaster of Kaltenbach, a quiet, worthy man, reminded me that I had often said one should drown domestic griefs in active labors for the Fatherland. He bade me consider what would become of us Germans, if we should fail to secure true unity. Those who had fallen in France, would, in that case, be disgraced and dishonored by the result. I could not yield, in spite of all that was said; and Joseph asked me, "If Richard is saved, will you consent?" "I do not make vows!" "I did not mean it in that way; but would your mind be sufficiently at ease?" I asked for time to consider the matter. There was to be a meeting of electors on the next evening. I was alone, buried in thought; but soon a true and encouraging companion arrived. It was a letter, the handwriting of which I did not recognize; but when I had broken the seal and read the signature, I seemed to hear the voice of sincerity itself--it was a letter from Doctor Wilhelmi, of Berlin. Ludwig had already informed me that Wilhelmi had returned years ago, and I had heard of his labors with genuine delight. I had often wished to send him a word of cheer, but had not found the opportunity. Now he wrote: