Part 61 (1/2)

”Do you know, my Klare,” he said, ”I don't quite like the look of it myself.”

The answer to this letter was very long in coming, unreasonably long, Klare thought. Her husband comforted her: ”Do you think people can come to a decision in a week about a matter over which I pondered for many years?”

At last came a letter bearing the stamp of the gun-foundry.

Guntz was just changing his coat for his smoking-jacket. He skimmed through the doc.u.ment, and read aloud to Klare the most important phrase: ”... plans extremely promising, ... their construction must certainly be undertaken at once.”

Then followed a most dazzling proposal for Guntz to enter the factory and occupy a leading position there. Compared with the modest pay of a captain, the suggested salary of fifteen thousand marks seemed positively fabulous.

Frau Klare's was an eminently practical nature, and she had often lamented over the miserable income on which the claims of an officer's position made such serious inroads; but now these words escaped her: ”Good G.o.d, Fatty! Isn't that far too much?”

Guntz had not heard her exclamation. He had just taken off his coat; he held it for a moment in his hand and stroked the epaulettes caressingly. Then he hung it carefully over the back of a chair.

”Of course I shall accept,” he said, in a voice which was meant to be calm, but in which strong emotion was evident. ”I hope I shall be able to serve my country and my king better than I could in that dear old coat.”

Klare stretched out her hand to him in silence; then she went softly out of the room. It is better for a man to have that sort of thing out with himself alone.

What might have taken an enormous expenditure of time and writing proved, as a matter of fact, to be very simply and easily accomplished.

Captain Guntz sent in his papers, and they were accepted before Easter.

At the farewell dinner, Major Mohbrinck spoke of the heartfelt concern with which the regiment must lose such a charming companion and promising officer, and of the good wishes with which all the officers would follow him to his new and important sphere of activity.

All this came from the heart. Who could know whether, as retired lieutenant-colonel or colonel, a man holding such a post in a gun-foundry might not be a very useful acquaintance?

When Guntz took his departure from the little station he had got over all his regrets. He only left behind one man for whom he cared--Reimers.

He looked out of the window of the railway-carriage and saw his friend standing on the narrow platform, gazing after the departing train. That thin face, with its sad eyes, became by degrees undistinguishable, and at last he could hardly recognise the slender, slightly bent figure.

He waved his handkerchief for the last time; but his friend probably did not see, for he stood motionless.

Then the train ran round a corner of rock; the carriage swayed slightly, and the little station was out of sight. Guntz sat back sighing in his corner. He had been able to give his friend no consolation, and only one piece of good advice--to work.

Little Dr. von Froben accompanied Senior-lieutenant Reimers to the examinations at the Staff College.

”One can only be plucked,” he said in excuse when he was teased about his presumption. Of course if he compared his knowledge with that of his companion, Reimers, his candidature seemed to himself an unwarrantable piece of bravado. And Reimers went on studying with an indefatigable, almost feverish energy.

”My dear Reimers,” said the little doctor, ”there will be nothing more for you to learn at the Staff College, if you work like this. You had better slack off, dear boy!”

Reimers smiled a little half-heartedly. The good progress he was making gave him no joy. He no longer prosecuted his studies with the inspired devotion that had formerly possessed him; and only the strong feeling of duty, which had become habitual with him, spurred him on to further efforts. He often said to himself: ”After all, what is the good of it?”

There was no sign of any obstacle in his path; despite all that had happened he was in a very fair way to achieve a distinguished military career. But he could not rid himself of an oppressive feeling that all his labour was in vain.

And then again after a moment of hopeless depression he would be possessed anew by the old fair vision, his enthusiasm for the wonderful German army, to belong to which had been his pride and his salvation.

With eyes full of rapture he pored over the pages of the military history, and for the thousandth time followed the army on its path of conquest.

Then suddenly he checked himself. Was the army of to-day, of which he was a member, really that old victorious army?

Guntz had handed over to him the justification for his resignation which he had written out before the duel with Landsberg. It had been unnecessary to add or to erase anything.