Volume I Part 19 (2/2)
I dare not suffer myself to be withdrawn, even for a moment, to that glorious struggle--one of the n.o.blest that ever a nation carried on to victory. My task is rather within that darkened room in the little hut, where, with fast-ebbing life, Hans Jorgle lay.
The wild cheers and echoing songs of the marching peasants awoke him from his sleep, which, if troubled by pangs of pain, had still lasted for some hours. He smiled, and made a gesture as if for silence, that he might hear the glorious sounds more plainly, and then lay in a calm, peaceful reverie, for a considerable time.
The Vorsteher had, with considerable difficulty, persuaded the poor widow to leave the bedside for a moment, while he asked Hans a question.
The wretched mother was borne, almost fainting, away; and the old man sat in her place, but, subdued by the anguish of the scene, unable to speak. At last, while the tears ran down his aged cheeks, he kissed the child's hand, and said,--
”Thou wilt leave us soon, Hans!”
Hans gave a smile of sad, but beautiful meaning, while his upturned eyes seemed to intimate his hope and his faith.
”True, Hans--thy reward is ready for thee!”
He paused a second, and then went on:--
”But even here, my child, in our own poor village, let thy devotion be a treasure, to be handed down in memory to our children, that they may know how one like themselves--more helpless, too--could serve his Vaterland. Say, Hans Jorgle, will it make thy last moments happier to think that our grat.i.tude will raise a monument to thee in the Dorf, with thy father's name, who fell at Elchingen, above thine own? The villagers have bid me ask thee this.”
”My mother--my poor mother!” murmured Hans.
”She shall never want, Hans Jorgle. The best house in the Dorf shall not have a better fireside than hers. But my question, Hans--time presses.”
Hans was silent, and lay with closed eyes for several minutes; then, laying his hand on the old man, he spoke with an utterance clear at first, but which gradually grew fainter as he proceeded,--
”Let them build no monument to one poor and humble as I am; mine were not actions glorious enough for trophies in the noon-day; but let the 'Nachtwachter' come here at midnight--at the same hour of my blessed dream--and let him wish me a good night. They who are sleeping will dream happier; and the waking will think, as they hear the cry, of Hans Jorgle!”
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