Part 35 (1/2)

”If you were Joan of Orleans,” responded the old man, solemnly, ”and should kneel before me as you do now, and ask my blessing, I should, as I do now, lay my hands on your head, and say to you: 'G.o.d the Lord, who holds heaven and earth in His hand, and without whose will not a hair falls from our head, watch over you and protect you! May He be with you on the battle-field! May He give you a brave heart, a strong arm, and a steady eye! May He give you courage to brave death! Yon have chosen men's work, you have pledged your love and your life to the fatherland; go, then, and be a man; love your country like a man, fight like a man, and, if need be, die like a man!' But when your last hour has come, my daughter, think of your father, and pray to G.o.d with your last thoughts that He may soon deliver me also, and take me away, for I shall feel lonely on earth when you are no more, and even the victorious shouts of the returning would no longer gladden my old soldier's heart if I find you not among the conquerors. But, hus.h.!.+ let no tear desecrate this secret hour of our last farewell! G.o.d has called all strong and courageous hearts--follow His call! It is inc.u.mbent on every one to love his country more intensely than parents, brothers, and sisters.

Go, then, my daughter; do your duty, and remember that your father's blessing will be with you in life as well as in death! And now, give me a last kiss.”

Leonora rose from her knees, and, encircling his neck with her arms, pressed a glowing kiss on his lips. ”Father,” she said, looking at him with a beaming face, ”my lips have not yet kissed any man's lips but yours, and here I swear to you--and may G.o.d have mercy on me at my last hour if I do not keep my oath!--I swear to you that I shall kiss no man until I am permitted to return to you, my father!”

”I believe you, dear Leonora,” said Prohaska, solemnly.

”Leonora, my child, it is time now!” exclaimed her mother, hastily entering the room. ”The postilion has already pa.s.sed our house, and in a quarter of an hour the stage-coach will stop at our door. I have myself gone to the postmaster, and he granted it as a favor that the stage-coach should stop here, and thus save you the trouble of going to the post-office. This will enable you to remain with us fifteen minutes yet.”

”But my trunk, mother; we have to take it to the post-office?” asked Leonora.

”Oh, it would have been too heavy for us,” said Mrs. Prohaska; ”Charles and two of his school-mates are just carrying it to the post-office. Leonora's trunk is quite heavy, father. Thank G.o.d, she is well provided, and for the first year it will be quite unnecessary for her to buy any thing.”

”My dear mother would indeed have packed up all her own things and dresses for me if I had not prevented her,” said Leonora, smiling.

”I should like best to pack up my own heart for you, my dear child,”

exclaimed her mother, deeply moved, ”but, as I could not do so, I put my bridal dress into your trunk. It is a nice silk dress, and I have worn it only three times in my life--on my wedding-day, and on the days when my two children were baptized; it is as good as new. I suppose, husband, you will permit me to give it to her?”

”Of course, but what is she to do with it?” asked Prohaska.

”Why, what a question!” exclaimed Mrs. Prohaska, ”she is to wear it, and look pretty when she goes to parties on Sundays. Leonora, I suppose you will know what to do with it?” ”Yes, mother, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful present, and I promise you that I shall use it only in a n.o.ble and worthy manner,”

said Leonora, gravely. ”My mother's bridal dress shall not be worn for frivolous purposes, but it shall serve me to attain the highest and purest objects.”

”Oh, I know,” whispered the mother, who was scarcely able to restrain her tears, ”I know that you are an excellent girl, and a good daughter, and that you will never do any thing of which your old parents would have to be ashamed. You have always been my pride and joy, and never would I consent to part with you unless every one had now to make the greatest sacrifices for the king and the fatherland. But still it is very painful, and--”

”Wife,” interposed the old sergeant, ”no tears now! When we are alone we shall have time enough for weeping. As long as Leonora is here, let us gaze at and rejoice in her.--I have to give you a commission yet. Go to my general, old Blucher, and tell him he ought not to be angry with me--that he must not believe me a lazy coward because I do not go to the war. Tell him that my leg had to be amputated some time after the battle, and that he ought to excuse my absence when the roll is called.”

”I will a.s.suredly repeat your words to the general, father.”

”Why!” asked Mrs. Prohaska, wonderingly, ”is General Blucher now at Berlin?”

”No,” said her husband, carelessly, ”he is at Breslau, whither all the volunteers are marching.”

”But how is Leonora, then, to repeat your words to him?” asked his wife, in amazement.

”Father means that I shall tell General Blucher when he comes to Berlin?” said Leonora, quickly. ”They say Blucher will come soon to expel the French from the capital, and father thinks I might then repeat those words to his old chieftain.”

”Sister, sister, the stage-coach is coming,” shouted Charles, rus.h.i.+ng breathlessly into the room. ”The postilion has already blown his bugle for the third time!”

”Well, then, my child, we must part,” said the old sergeant, deeply moved, and clasping Leonora in his arms. ”G.o.d bless you, my daughter! Your father's thoughts will always be with you!” He disengaged himself from her arms, and pushed her gently toward her mother. The two women remained a long time locked in each other's arms. Neither of them said a word, but their tears and their last looks were more eloquent than words.

”And you forget me?” asked Charles, reproachfully. ”You do not care to take leave of me?”

Leonora released herself from her mother's embrace, and encircled her brother's neck with her arms. ”Farewell, darling of my heart!”

she cried. ”Be a good son to father and mother, and remember that you must henceforth love them for both of us. Farewell, brother, and forgive me for being born earlier than you, and thus preventing your being in my place. G.o.d decreed it thus, putting us in our own places, and we must both fill them worthily.”

”Yes,” said Charles, amid his tears, ”certainly we will.”

A carriage was rattling over the pavement, and stopped in front of the house. A bugle sounded.

”Father, mother, and brother, farewell!” exclaimed Leonora. Then, raising her arms to heaven, she added: ”G.o.d in heaven, watch over them, and, if such be Thy will, let me return to them!” She hastily wrapped herself in her cloak, and, without looking at them again, rushed out of the room, and jumped into the coach.