what it was that I had tossed on the fire, muttering some threat of announcing me as a spy.
I was at a loss for an immediate answer, and thus made matters worse, till, in their suspicion, one of the guard insisted that I should take off overcoat, boots and hat, to show that I had no other secreted papers, and then taking possession of the same, he left the hut immediately, and I never saw my habiliments again, but barefooted and bootless, obeyed orders to accompany the enemy in their evening march.
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.
It was about twilight, when I observed a long line of lights in the distance, and on approaching nearer, found that they proceeded from the encampment-ground of the French. I passed near a fine country-house, where torches flared in every direction, and sentinels, both on foot and horseback, kept watch before the doors, and was ordered to take my place at the huge fire of burning faggots, around which sat several men, apparently enjoying their evening meal, and on approaching nearer, I found them to be no other than my old comrades, Charles the Great and the hussar.
“Ah, general,” I jestingly exclaimed, “is this the feast you promised us, to be eaten in company with Ziethen, Schweren, Winterfield and Frederic the Great?”
At my well-known voice, the lieutenant sprang forward, and pressing me most affectionately in his arms, exclaimed, “Heaven be praised that you yet live, and that our king has not lost one of his bravest soldiers! Ah, how much we regretted your probable death. But why did you not seek to moderate the excess of your courage? I knew exactly how it would turn out, when I saw you rushing so wildly into the very teeth of the enemy. However, your valour really enkindled my dispirited troops, for they fought bravely for a half hour; but the foe was too strong, and we were at length forced to surrender. But come, my dear lieutenant, you will share our supper with us, although we have only a crust to offer,” and the good-natured fellow drew me with friendly force to his side.
We had not held long companionship, when one of the sentinels approached, attended by a corporal, who politely inquired, “Who among you, gentlemen, is the Prussian adjutant-general?”
Charles the Great chuckled loud, as he pointed me out with a self-satisfied air.
“Adjutant,” exclaimed the officer, as he pressed my hand with respectful courtesy, “I regret much the shameful treatment whch so brave a man as yourself has received. Will you oblige me by making use of these articles of clothing, along with a few bottles of excellent wine, which may cheer you in your present circumstances? Be assured, sir, that Frenchmen know how to prize a brave man even in a foe, and that the plunderers and marauders you may have met with, were only exceptions to the general rule.”
I, in turn, proffered my warmest thanks to my polite adversary, assuring him that, through his kind attentions, I had been that day twice vanquished by the conqueror of the world—a courteous and full-sounding speech when uttered, as it was, in the language of the most polite nation under heaven.
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.
ON PAROLE.
On the following day we reached the city of Frankfort on the Oder, where I had many acquaintances, a fact which, under present circumstances, gave me little pleasure. As we marched through the principal gate, my heart beat violently; and anxious to disguise myself, if possible, I drew my military hat over my eyes and buried my chin in my ample cravat—for I truly dreaded to appear as a prisoner and impostor; the latter I certainly was, in accepting of military honours which were not honestly mine. Crowds of inquisitive and, perhaps, sympathizing people, followed us in our humbling march through the principal street, and I was glad to shrink behind some of my more shameless comrades, who strutted along with an air that seemed to say, “See how much we have to suffer in defence of our king and our country,” till at length we reached the inn selected for our night-quarters, and where we were allowed to remain unguarded, on giving our written parole that we would on no account attempt to escape. As I added my name as adjutant-general, it struck me that such an oath was in no way binding in my true vocation, that of a poor curate; and, accordingly determining to act thereon, I requested permission to visit some friends who were residents in Frankfort, and this being readily granted, I set off about dusk, bidding an eternal farewell to my military title, and most happy in resuming my former humble station.
After an hour’s rapid walk through the narrow and dirty alley ways, I ventured on a wider and more agreeable path, which soon led me to the outskirts of the city, where, amid the perfume of the pine groves, the murmur of the streams, and the sight of the silver moon, as she steered amid fleecy clouds, I might at some other time have fallen into a romantic mood, but, under present circumstances, felt that I would cheerfully resign all the beauties of nature for a straw pallet and a dry crust. And now I questioned myself concerning my plan for the future. Where was I going, and on what would I subsist? were inquiries which I found it impossible to answer. Perhaps it is well that man cannot foresee these secondary mat-
