Part 46 (1/2)

When he stood up again a s.h.i.+fty, vague, cunning expression pa.s.sed over his face.

Between the white stems of the young birch-trees he looked out for the sentry, who must have heard the shot. Redoubled precautions would be necessary in regaining the barracks.

The sentry was staring fixedly up into the woods hence he had heard the firing. With his head still turned towards the heights he walked up to the gates, and waited to be relieved. When the bombardier and the relieving sentry appeared he made his announcement. He pointed several times to the wood. The bombardier shrugged his shoulders and asked questions; finally he disappeared through the gateway with the sentry who had been relieved. The gates clanged together, and the keys rattled as the lock was turned.

The new sentry listened awhile to his comrades' retreating steps; then he strolled along his beat at a leisurely pace, occasionally looking up the hill. He took his time, but at last he turned the corner of the officers' quarters.

Heimert made use of the opportunity. He ran hastily down the pathway to the barracks. He drew himself up with the aid of the lightning-conductor till his feet reached the top of the wall, and soon after was standing, breathing heavily, in his own kitchen.

A moonbeam fell on something s.h.i.+ning that leant against a kitchen chair. It was Heppner's sword. Heimert took it up and carefully hung it on its nail in the pa.s.sage.

For a moment he stood listening. The Heppner baby was crying; the soothing murmurs of its mother could be plainly heard: ”Sh, s.h.!.+”

He stepped back on tiptoe, drew the door gently to, and began hastily to undress. Then he lay down quietly in bed, taking pains not to make the bedstead creak.

His precautions were superfluous; Albina slept soundly. An earthquake would hardly have awakened her.

The deputy sergeant-major lay and listened. He could only hear the beating of his own heart, and through the wall the m.u.f.fled sound of the child's crying.

”Widow and orphan,” he thought.

The wailing voice subsided by degrees. The child had fallen asleep, or the mother had taken it to her breast.

Its father was lying up there on the hill-side, his huge body blocking the pathway.

Sch.e.l.lhorn, the fat paymaster of the regiment, whom Surgeon-major Andreae sent every spring to Carlsbad for a cure, found the corpse during his early morning const.i.tutional.

He hastened to the barracks and gave the alarm.

After all particulars had been noted, the dead man was carried away.

Four gunners bore the heavy body down the hill on a stretcher, and laid it on the bed in the Heppners' dwelling, the poor wife looking on with bewildered eyes.

There was no doubt as to the case being one of suicide. The direction of the shot, as shown by the post-mortem examination, was not against this theory; but the most unmistakable proof lay in the motive for the deed, which was only too clear. From the various cash-boxes under the charge of the deceased one hundred and twenty marks were missing.

Sergeant-major Heppner, in dread of this being discovered, had shot himself.

The colonel, Major Schrader, and Captain von Wegstetten unanimously decided to hush up the affair, in view of the certain censure of the higher authorities; and Schrader replaced the missing sum without more ado.

Heppner's gambling companions were seriously warned.

Sergeant-major Blechschmidt, who was most to blame, received an official intimation that he must not count upon a further term of service.

Finally the widow was informed that her husband had committed suicide in a moment of temporary mental aberration.

A few days after the funeral Heimert was installed in Heppner's place.

It gave him an immense deal of trouble to fulfil his new duties, and yet no man could have set himself to the task more zealously and conscientiously.