Lieutenant Reimers had reported himself to the colonel of the regiment and to the major.

These officers had given him a hearty welcome, each after his own fashion.

Major Schrader, who never let pass an opportunity of making a joke, received his report at first in a very stiff official manner, assuring him with a frown that he was very loth to have in his division officers who had been in disgrace; then almost fell on his neck, and asked him if it were true that the Kaffir girls had such an abominable smell.

Colonel Falkenhein gave him only a prolonged handshake; but Reimers could read the great gladness in his eyes.

The colonel had treated the young man almost as a son; and a year before, when the doctors had sent Reimers to Egypt as a consumptive patient with a very doubtful prospect of recovery, had seen him depart with a heavy heart. Now, looking upon him once more, he was doubly glad. Reimers had not developed into a broad-chested, red-cheeked, powerful man, but every trace of illness had vanished from the bronzed face; the thin features and the rather spare rigid figure gave an impression of tough endurance, a characteristic of greater value in resisting disease than mere well-nourished sleekness.

"You are well out of that, thank God! Reimers," he said, once more shaking the lieutenant's hand; "and it looks as if the improvement would be permanent, considering the test to which your health has been put."

"It was rather va banque, sir," replied the lieutenant. "Either all or nothing."

"I decidedly prefer the all," said Falkenhein, in such a hearty, affectionate tone that a rush of devotion carried the lieutenant past the barriers of formality. He bent quickly over the colonel's hand and kissed it. Tears stood in his eyes--tears of grateful pleasure. Now he indeed felt himself back in his native country.

How he had longed for it, day after day, during this year of furlough!

At first when, in Cairo, he was again laid low by the fatigues of the journey, he had thought of his country with pensive melancholy. Later, as his strength returned, homesickness asserted itself increasingly; he suffered from it more than from his gradually-subsiding bodily malady, and the aimless life of a health-resort only increased his sufferings. He could never have resigned himself to pass long months of such inaction in a strange land; and when he joined the Boer forces, it was to no small extent in order to counteract the torturing longing for Germany.

He loved his country with a passionate ardour. The ideas of greatness, power and sovereignty were inseparably connected in his mind with the name of the German Empire. But his chief enthusiasm was reserved for the diligent, unostentatious work, quietly accomplished and conscious of its aim, which, begun by Stein, Scharnhorst and Boyen, had led through long struggles to such a glorious result. He reviewed the whole story with the eye of a soldier from the collapse at Jena onward to the last great war he seemed to trace an uninterruptedly ascending line, not diverted even by Prussia's temporary political defeats. In the unparalleled siege of Sedan a height of military efficiency had been reached from which no further ascent was possible. He could not imagine anything in the whole world more honourable than to belong to that splendid army of Sedan; and he wore his officer's sword-knot with a pride far removed from any kind of conceit: in fact, nearly akin to religious veneration.

As a boy, it had been his bitterest grief that his mother's wishes and the doctor's opinion were against his becoming a soldier,--an officer like his dead father, who had fought in the great campaign. His mother and the doctor had feared that he was too weakly for the military profession. In order to remove this objection, the boy voluntarily subjected himself to heroic discipline, and by strictly following a graduated system of physical exercises inured his body to hardships, until he was actually found fit for service. Conquered by such persistent devotion, his mother at last yielded to his wishes; but she saw him wear his father's familiar old uniform only a few times, for she died shortly after, barely forty years old.

Bernhard Reimers thus became doubly an orphan. But he had far more than the death of a mother to deplore. With his mother he also lost the only person who had loved him, and the only one whom he in return had loved.

So closely was the boy encircled by his mother's love, that the need which led his schoolfellows at the gymnasium to form friendships was never felt by him. Whenever he wanted to learn something, to solve a doubt or to confide a secret, he could count on his mother's tenderness; she would explain, soothe, or sympathise, as the joys and sorrows of the growing youth became ever more serious. From this relation he retained a touch of womanliness in his character, even after he had left home to enter the regiment: a shrinking from everything coarse, a reserve before all that was unlovely. This instinctive feeling did not, indeed, altogether protect him from temptation, but it withheld him from yielding to excess. He joined in the little drink and love follies of the other young subalterns from a sense of comradeship; alone they would never have appealed to him.

As at school, so in the regiment, he had many comrades, but no friend. He did not trouble himself about this, and until his mother's death he felt no want. Then he recognised sadly that he was quite alone; but he was incapable of setting to work to seek a friend, so he just waited for some happy chance to bring the right person across his path.

When, at last, he found the friendship he sought, it did not come in the way he had dreamed, suddenly, like a gift from heaven thrown into his lap; but was a gradual strong growth, a slow mutual recognition.

It would be difficult to find a greater contrast than that presented by Reimers and this Senior-lieutenant GÜntz; externally and internally they differed radically. Reimers was tall and lean, with golden-brown hair, and a noble, but somewhat melancholy expression; GÜntz was small and very fair, with a tendency to stoutness, and with a red jovial face like the full moon. The one was romantic and even exuberant, slightly fantastic in his moods; the other firmly rooted in prosaic fact.

Both were prized as able officers. Reimers was referred to on questions of military history and science; GÜntz was considered an authority on mathematical technicalities, especially in connection with the artillery. Thoroughness was a characteristic of each alike; and on the strength of this, and despite all difference, they were daily attracted more and more to each other. GÜntz, the more expansive nature, soon opened his whole heart to his friend; though Reimers, partly from a kind of timidity, still kept his deepest and innermost feelings somewhat hidden. For GÜntz, with his sober sense and terrible logic, must necessarily, since he could never be otherwise than sincere, destroy most of the ideals and illusions to which Reimers passionately clung, and without which he believed he could not live.

Little by little, however, the wall of separation between them gave way, and their friendship and mutual confidence had become almost ideal, when GÜntz was ordered to serve in the Experimental Department of the Artillery in Berlin. This was a distinction; but it meant absence for a year.

Reimers had thus found a friend only to lose him again.

The exchange of letters between the two was not specially brisk. Things which could be instantly understood in conversation had to be treated in such detail on paper! They would have had to write each other scientific treatises, and for that there was no time; Reimers was too zealous in his garrison duty, and GÜntz too much absorbed in the technical problems on which he was engaged. His loneliness only caused Reimers to devote himself with the greater zeal to his profession.

Even the irksome duties of the service did not trouble him, and he took special interest in his recruits, superintending, correcting, and instructing them. In times of peace this was, indeed, the greatest and most important work of the young officer, to mould this stubborn human material into soldiers--soldiers who, after the first rough shaping, had to be trained till finally they attained their highest end: fitness for active service.

At the same time he had to pursue his own studies in military science. But he would have been ashamed to call that work; he knew no nobler pleasure, and would gladly have sat up the whole night over the plans of the general staff, only refraining so that the next morning might find him fresh with the needful, or, as he smilingly called it, the "regulation" vigour for practical duty.

Thus, when GÜntz had gone, Reimers was in danger of becoming somewhat shy of his fellow-creatures. He had honestly to put constraint on himself to fulfil the claims of comradeship with a good grace, and more especially his social obligations. He was most at home in outdoor recreations; he played tennis with enthusiasm, and had nothing against excursions on foot or bicycle with a picnic thrown in, or the regimental races, or hunting. These all meant healthy exercise, and afforded a wholesome change from the confined life of the garrison. But winter, with its obligatory dinners and balls, was a torment to him.

On one occasion, standing in the doorway of a ballroom, he had closed his ears so as to exclude all sound of the music, and then had seriously doubted the sanity of the men and women he saw madly jumping about. He felt almost ashamed afterwards when he had to ask the no longer youthful Frau Lischke for a dance; but the fat lady hung smiling on his arm, and did not spare him a single round. Reimers thought sadly of his honest friend GÜntz, and the rude things he had been wont to say about such follies as these.

But chance threw in his way a gift which to some extent compensated him for the loss of his friend. He and Colonel von Falkenhein were brought together; and, by the irony of fate, at one of these same odious balls.

After working through his duty dances, Reimers had allowed himself to omit a polka, and was leaning out of a window in the end room of the suite, when Colonel Falkenhein tapped him on the shoulder.

The colonel was bored; for those of the older men who were not occupied with the ladies had set themselves down to cards, and he--a widower, whose only daughter was still at school--could not bear cards, and liked dancing still less. This Lieutenant Reimers, standing alone gazing out into the night, seemed a kindred spirit.

The young officer had already excited his interest; his behaviour as a soldier was loudly praised by his superiors; and then unprofessionally he was distinguished from the average type of young lieutenant by a certain attractive maturity of bearing, without, however, impressing one as a prig. Priggishness was even less endurable to Falkenhein than play and dancing.

The colonel had the gift of making people open their hearts to him by means of a few judicious questions, and could very well distinguish between genuine and spurious sentiment.

Reimers answered with a candour which astonished himself most of all, and Falkenhein listened with a pleased attention. Here was a man after his own heart, possessed by a manly seriousness, and with a deliberate lofty aim in life; not merely dreaming of substituting a general's epaulettes for the simple shoulder-knots of a lieutenant. Here, too, was a fine enthusiasm, which touched the veteran of fifty and warmed his heart. It recalled the old warlike days and the cry: "Only put us to the proof! and rather to-day than to-morrow!" Ah! since those days he had learnt to judge such things rather differently; but nevertheless it was the right way for youth to regard them. Such enthusiasm was a little exaggerated, at any rate as things stood at present, and also a trifle shortsighted. It was now no longer as in the days of 1870 and after, when the watch on the Rhine had to be kept for fear of vengeance. He could not join as heartily as he might then have done in the proud joy of the young officer.

He felt inclined to take himself to task for this, and on no account would he pour cold water on this fine flame of enthusiasm. It was the very thing in which the present time was most lacking: patriotism as a genuine conviction rooted firmly and deep in the breast, not venting itself in mere cheering and hurrahs; and accompanied by a steady comprehension of the soldier's profession as simply a constant readiness for war.

From the time of this conversation, Reimers began to feel heartily enthusiastic about his colonel. He was almost ashamed to find that his good friend GÜntz was thus slightly forgotten; but this was not really the case--the two might safely share in his affection without wrong to either of them. The honest, faithful fellow in Berlin remained his dear friend; the colonel he began to look on as a second father.

Falkenhein's partiality was not, of course, openly expressed; but by many little signs he let the young man see how much he thought of him. Reimers, fully aware of the fatherly sympathy, was happy in the knowledge of it. His comrades were, indeed, surprised to find how lively and almost exuberant the hitherto staid Reimers could become; and particularly was this so during the artillery practice and the autumn manoeuvres, when--garrison and parade drills at an end for a time--conditions were somewhat akin to those of real warfare.

Then the even course of things was broken by his illness.

When, before his enforced furlough, he took leave of the colonel, the latter's hearty liking for the first time broke through the barriers of official form. His clear eyes became dim, and his voice slightly trembled as he said: "Come back well, my dear Reimers--come back to me. Be sure and do all you can to get cured!"

Now, when at last Reimers found himself once more standing face to face with this honoured colonel, joy overpowered him, and he kissed the hand of his fatherly friend.

The colonel tolerated this altogether unmilitary excess with a good-natured smile. He would have been delighted to clasp in his arms this young man, who was as dear as a son to him; but he, an old soldier, could not allow his feelings to get the better of him as the lieutenant had done, rejoiced though he had been by the latter's outburst.

Out on the parade-ground Reimers looked about him with interest. Everything seemed to have become different and delightful; even the bare, prosaic yard of the barracks appeared no longer devoid of charm. He passed through the gate and went slowly along the high road towards the town. Then it was that the glad feeling of being in his native country asserted itself in full force. He realised that it was just the tender green of those beeches and alders edging the brook that he had longed to see when, in Cairo, the fan-like palm-leaf hung motionless at his window; just this slope of meadow land that he had remembered on the arid veldt of South Africa. It was this mild sunshine of his native land, this blue German sky that he had pined for in the glowing furnace of the Red Sea. The tiny engine which puffed along asthmatically up the valley, dragging its little carriages and ringing its bell from time to time when a browsing sheep strayed between the rails, had been ever present in his mind during his journeyings to and fro.

As he walked along, the young officer thought of his comrades whom he would now meet again.

In this glad moment he could tolerate them all. Their various defects, whether small or great, now appeared less offensive than of yore; and in any case it was kind of them and a great compliment to him that on this very day of his return they should have arranged a feast. It is true he rather dreaded this feast, which was sure to end in the usual way--general drunkenness--but it was well meant, and there was at least one advantage in it, that he would at once be made acquainted with all the details of garrison gossip; for, though altogether beneath contempt, they must be known in order to avoid giving unintentional offence.

At the door of his quarters he found waiting the gunner who had been appointed as his servant.

"Gunner GÄhler, as servant to Lieutenant Reimers," he announced himself.

Reimers took a good look at the man. The sergeant-major seemed to have done well for him in this respect. GÄhler was a smart fellow, not exactly tall, but well proportioned, and very clean. His hair smelt a little too strongly of pomade, and wax had not been spared on his fashionably-stiffened moustache.

When Reimers drew his bunch of keys out of his pocket to unlock the door, GÄhler hastened to take them from his hand, and opened the door for the lieutenant to pass in before him. He quickly laid his bundle of clothes upon a chair, and at once helped to take off Reimer's helmet, shoulder-belt, and scarf.

The officer smiled at such excessive zeal.

"How is it that you are so well up in this work?"

"I was for a time servant to Captain von Wegstetten, sir."

"Indeed? And why did you leave him?"

GÄhler hesitated a little; then he resumed glibly: "Please do not think badly of me, sir. There were difficulties; the servant-girl slandered me; you will understand, sir."

He stood there embarrassed, polishing the chin-piece of the helmet with the sleeve of his coat.

Reimers felt amused at his choice manner of expressing himself. "So you can't leave the women alone?" he asked. "Well, with me you will not be led into temptation."

GÄhler modestly demurred: "I beg your pardon, sir; but in that case it was really not at all my fault."

The lieutenant laughed. "Oh, all right!" he said; "but before that, where were you?"

The gunner drew himself up proudly, and replied with dignity: "I was groom to Count Vocking, in Dresden."

"Aha, that accounts for it!"

Reimers was no longer surprised. The aristocratic cavalry-officer was considered the richest and smartest sportsman in Germany.

First, Reimers asked for his smoking-jacket, and then told GÄhler to help him in unpacking the case of books which had just arrived from Suez.

GÄhler handed him the volumes, and could not help remarking: "You have an awful lot of books, sir!"

The lieutenant did not look offended, so he went on: "The count hadn't so many, and none at all of this sort."

He stole another glance to assure himself that he had not displeased his master, and then added: "The count only had books about horses, and a few about women, and the Regulations for cavalry-exercise."

At this Reimers could not help laughing, and his "Hold your tongue," did not sound to GÄhler particularly angry.

But if Count Vocking possessed fewer books than the lieutenant, he apparently surpassed him greatly in other respects.

As GÄhler was arranging the washhand stand, he remarked: "The count had lots of little boxes and bottles, with real silver tops."

And when he fetched Reimers some sandwiches and a glass of beer for lunch from the kitchen on the ground floor, he informed his master, "The count had his own kitchen, and used to drink Burgundy at lunch."

And here another result of his training in the Vocking household came to light. In a few moments the table was covered with a clean cloth, with knife, fork, and spoon neatly in place; and it was certainly not the rough maid down below in the simple kitchen to whom it had occurred to decorate the dish so prettily with parsley and radishes. The meal looked far more appetising than usual, and this was GÄhler's work.

"Where did you get the radishes from?" Reimers asked.

"The cook gave them to me, sir," his servant replied.

"So you are at it again, making yourself agreeable?"

This time GÄhler was not in the least confused, but replied frankly, "I beg your pardon, sir; the cook is very old and very fat, I----"

That evening, in the mess-house, the officers, both his seniors in rank and those of his own age, vied with each other in pleasant speeches. But it ended just as it had done a year before; when all had greeted him, he was left standing alone in the doorway of the reading-room.

His only friend, GÜntz, was still in Berlin, and the officers chatted together in the other rooms of the mess-house, standing in groups which in almost every case denoted circles of friends. There was hardly any change in the composition of these circles, which was usually due to similar length of service, but in certain cases they were held together by some other bond. There was the Keyl-MÖller group of two senior-lieutenants and a lieutenant, who were brothers-in-law in a double sense, two Keyls having married two FrÄulein MÖllers, and a MÖller a FrÄulein Keyl. There was also the trio of musical officers, one of whom sang and played the violin and also the French horn, while the second was an excellent pianist, and the third only whistled, but in a most artistic manner. Then, finally, there was the philosophic group, to which little Lieutenant Dr. von FrÖben gave the tone. He had taken his doctor's degree in jurisprudence at Heidelberg, and had recently become an officer, as during his year of military service he had lost all taste for legal science. He bore his academic honours with that dignity which often accompanies the unusual; he was considered extremely up-to-date, and at times rather extravagant in his opinions. Among his friends were two officers still very young, one of whom was always reading Prevost and Maupassant; and the other blushingly acknowledged himself to be the author of an ode, printed in a daily newspaper, welcoming the troops just returned from China, among whom had been Captain Madelung of the regiment.

Everything at the mess-house seemed to be just as of old; it seemed to Reimers as if he had not been away for a day. He looked around him: all were as before, the elder men, with thick moustaches and hair growing thin in places, with the cares of a future command already on the brow; those of his own age, easy-going and assuming nonchalant airs; and the youngest of all very spick and span and extremely correct. Just as of old the three brothers-in-law stood close together (two of them had in the meantime become fathers, and the wife of Keyl II., nÊe MÖller, was in an interesting condition), and chatted about their various uncles and aunts. As of yore, the singing, violin and horn-playing Manitius was at the piano, turning over the leaves of a pianoforte arrangement of the "Trompeter von SÄkkingen." And again, as of old, the little red-haired Dr. von FrÖben held forth learnedly to every one who would listen. There were only two new men who had entered the regiment during his illness, and had just got their commissions as lieutenants. One of them, Landsberg, had introduced himself to Reimers as belonging to his battery.

Reimers was not much taken with him. This youth, with his somewhat vacant expression, hair glossy with pomade, and single eye-glass squeezed into his eye, was too artificial and dandified to suit his taste. But he seemed somehow to be an object of interest to Landsberg, though the latter was evidently shy of addressing his elder comrade.

Reimers thought he could guess what was coming. No doubt it was again some question about his experiences in the war, of the kind he had already answered twenty times this evening in a more or less evasive fashion. This curiosity did not offend him, for such questions must be in every officer's mind, and especially in that of one who was fresh to the soldier's calling.

Sure enough Landsberg came up. He began rather slowly. "Excuse me, may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, I shall be most happy," answered Reimers.

"Do tell me," Landsberg proceeded hesitatingly, "I would like so much--in fact, the shape of your boots pleases me immensely; they are awfully smart, and I--in fact, you would confer a tremendous favour on me if you would give me the address of your bootmaker."

Reimers considered for a moment, then replied coldly: "I bought these boots in passing through Berlin."

"Just what I expected! They do look awfully smart, really! And do you remember the address of the shop?"

"No."

"What a pity! But, if you don't mind, I will send my servant to you to copy it off the lining. May I?"

Again Reimers was silent for a moment, then he said: "I have no objection, if you think it important."

Landsberg brought his heels together with a click, bowed, and murmured: "You are very kind; I shall certainly do so."

Then he moved away with, "Thank you so much."

Reimers turned away. He suddenly found the room too hot, and he walked up and down for a time in the cooler air of the vestibule. All the doors were open. In the mess-room the staff-officers and the captains were standing near the table, which was already laid. It was a few minutes before half-past seven. Only the colonel had not come yet.

Andreae, the senior staff-surgeon, gave Reimers a friendly nod through the doorway. Reimers was his show patient. The specialist had shrugged his shoulders, but he, Andreae, had not thrown up the sponge. The thing was in reality quite simple. It only needed, like other military affairs, initiative. The right diagnosis must be made as promptly as possible, and the right treatment must follow without delay. Then all went well, as in this case--unless, indeed, something went wrong. Yes, indeed, this patient was a triumph which should finally reduce to silence those civilian colleagues of his who considered a military surgeon competent at most to deal with venereal diseases and broken bones.

Reimers listened in an absent-minded way to his long-winded deliverances on the subject of acclimatisation, taking furtive glances the while at the other officers in the mess-room.

They also seemed in no way changed. Major Lischke and Captain von Wegstetten were still at loggerheads, Lischke blustering away in his loud voice, and Wegstetten assuming his most ironical expression. Captain Stuckardt was listening in a half-hearted way; he had quite recently been put on the list for promotion to the staff, and consequently wore a rather preoccupied look. Hitherto he had found the charge of one battery difficult enough, and now he would have to command three. Undisturbed by the dispute, the captain of the fifth battery, Mohr, had sat down to the table by himself; he was always thirsty, and had already disposed of half a bottle of champagne. Madelung, fresh from the Far East, paced up and down with short nervous steps between him and the disputing officers. In passing, he glanced at the two fighting-cocks with a kind of scornful pity, and at the silent toper with contempt. Major Schrader and Captain von Gropphusen were whispering and chuckling together in a window nook. They had one inexhaustible theme--women; while forage was the favourite topic of the two men standing beneath the chandelier--TrÄger and Heuschkel, the officers commanding the first and second batteries. The third battery had the fattest horses in the regiment--"and the laziest," said the colonel; nevertheless, it must be allowed, that when the inspector from the Ministry of War paid his visit, it was an uncommonly pleasant sight to see the hind-quarters of those horses shining so round and sleek in their stalls.

"Carrots! carrots!" cried Heuschkel. "They're the thing!" And Andreae, who, as a healer of men must also have some knowledge of the inside of beasts, was called on to endorse this view as to the excellence of carrots as fodder.

Thus Reimers felt himself rather out of it all, and was just about to leave the mess-room and join his younger comrades, when Madelung came towards him.

The lieutenant waited expectantly. He was interested, for it was almost an event when Madelung spoke to any one.

This lean, black-haired man, with the thin dark face and the deep-set penetrating eyes, was undoubtedly the most unpopular officer in the regiment. He was characterised as an unscrupulous place-hunter, and gave himself not the slightest trouble to disprove the accusation. The one excuse that could be offered for him was that, his father having been ruined through no fault of his own, he was almost entirely dependent on his pay, and had been able to keep up his position as an officer only by means of the strictest economy, and with the help of an extra allowance from the royal privy-purse. It may have been this that embittered him so that he avoided all social intercourse with the other officers, and devoted himself entirely to his profession. By means of relentless industry he had now won for himself the prospect of a brilliant career; on leaving the Staff College he had been presented by the king with a sword of honour, and he could look forward to a position on the general staff. Naturally he had volunteered for the expedition to Eastern Asia, and had recently returned from China decorated with an order, thinner and more pinched-looking than ever, and still less amiable.

Reimers stood before him in a strictly correct attitude, for the captain was not to be trifled with. But Madelung put him at his ease with a nod, and said, glancing sharply at him, "So you are the other exotic prodigy who is being fÊted to-day!"

He laughed drily.

The lieutenant made no response, and Madelung went on rapidly: "I may tell you that I envy you!"

Reimers felt the captain take his hand and give it a quick, hearty shake; but before he could answer, Madelung had turned and walked away to the table.

At this moment the colonel appeared. He greeted each of the older officers with a couple of words, and the younger with a general nod. Reimers alone, on the day of his return, had a special greeting and a hearty handshake.

Then they sat down to table. From the colonel in the seat of honour, downwards, the officers were placed according to rank and length of service. The youngest and the last was an avantageur[A] who had joined the regiment on October 1st. He had been on stable duty from half-past four that morning, and had to pull himself together now not to fall asleep; till at last a bottle of Zeltinger was placed before him by the orderly, and then he became livelier.

[Footnote A: A one-year volunteer who elects to remain on in the army and await promotion.--Translator.]

Reimers had chosen a place near the little lieutenant of doctor's degree, who was quite an amusing fellow, and chattered away so glibly that his neighbour hardly needed to contribute to the conversation.

Of course FrÖben had begun: "Well, Reimers, fire away! Give us some leaves from your military diary. We are all ears!" But Reimers soon changed the subject. What he had seen and gone through down there among the Boers was still in his own mind a dim, confused chaos of impressions, and it was repugnant to him to touch on it even superficially, so long as he was not clear about it himself.

The little doctor began to dilate on the splendid German East-African line of steamers, which conveyed one for a mere trifle from Hamburg to Naples, by way of Antwerp, Oporto, and Lisbon, and he enlarged at great length on the educational influence of long journeys in general and of sea-voyages in particular.

Reimers listened patiently, letting his eyes wander round the table. Just as of old, the various groups still kept together, and were continuing their conversations uninterruptedly. Falkenhein, in their midst, listened with amusement as the senior staff-surgeon chaffed Stuckhardt about that oldest and yet newest of nervous diseases--"majoritis." Madelung was looking rather glum, and kept twirling the little silver wheel of the knife-rest. Next to him, Mohr was staring straight before him with glassy eyes, and Schrader leant back in his chair laughing, while Gropphusen still kept on talking to him.

"He's got something to laugh about!" said FrÖben to his neighbour, interrupting his discourse.

"How do you mean?" asked Reimers.

"Well, to put it delicately, Schrader has got a flirtation on with Frau von Gropphusen--a very intimate flirtation!"

"Indeed!" Reimer responded indifferently.

Here was a fine piece of gossip, and strange to say, in this, too, things were as before; it was not the first time that Major Schrader and Frau von Gropphusen had afforded material for conversation.

Dr. von FrÖben continued: "But you must not think, Reimers, that in such matters I am a bigoted moralist. Ideas of morality are subject to just the same fluctuations as----"

And he dealt out what remained in his memory of a newspaper article, the writer of which had entirely misunderstood Nietsche.

After the toast of "The King," a momentary silence fell upon the company, contrasting strangely with the clatter of voices which had preceded it.

During this lull in the conversation the word "China" was spoken somewhere near the colonel, and all eyes involuntarily turned to Madelung.

He sat there stiffly with his cold face, a cynical smile on his thin lips. "Dangers!" he cried in his hard voice, which had the shrillness of a musical instrument that has lost its resonance, "Dangers! I knew nothing about them."

He laughed drily.

Captain Heuschkel, who was always worrying about his fat horses, inquired: "Well, against such an opponent, surely cover had to be considered most of all. Wasn't it so? that cover was of more importance than action? Ten thousand of those yellow fellows were not worth a single trained soldier, surely?"

"Or one of my horses," he added in his own mind. He would probably have committed suicide if he had seen one of his horses shot by a dirty Chinaman.

"Surely it was a question of good cover, wasn't it?" he insisted.

"No," answered Madelung in a loud voice. "It was a question of keeping your fingers out of your mouth."

"What on earth had that to do with it?" put in Captain von Stuckardt, rather hesitatingly.

Madelung bowed with ironical politeness.

"Infection with the typhus bacillus," he replied, "was the principal danger in China, Captain von Stuckardt."

After a little pause the shrill voice continued: "We had a senior-lieutenant in our cantonment, belonging to some Prussian grenadier regiment, a gay fellow, and, indeed, quite a useful officer besides."

Madelung paused a moment, and again his dry, mocking laugh resounded.

Then he continued: "He had a queer fad. He cultivated one of his finger-nails, that of the little finger of his left hand, with the greatest care. Just like a Chinese mandarin. At last the nail was fully a centimetre long, and made holes in all his gloves. Now, whenever a speck of dirt lodged in this nail, he was in the habit of removing it with his teeth. It wasn't exactly a nice thing to do; but, you see, he had a passion for that nail. I often said to him, 'My dear fellow, do keep your finger away from your mouth--it's just swarming with typhus bacilli.' He did try, but sometimes he forgot; and so in the end he was caught."

Every one looked inquiringly at Madelung, and he added: "He died of typhus."

He sipped his wine, and continued, rather more gently: "I firmly believe that it required greater self-control in that senior-lieutenant to refrain from putting his little finger into his mouth than to lead his men under the heaviest fire against one of those Chinese clay and mud walls."

Then he raised his voice again, as if ashamed of the rather gentler tone of his last words, and concluded, harshly and shrilly: "Besides, it really is a bad habit, putting one's fingers in one's mouth."

And again he sat silent and stiff, twirling the little silver wheel of the knife-rest.

The feast then took the usual course.

After the table had been cleared some of the officers remained in the mess-room sitting over their wine, while others went off to the reading or smoking-rooms with a schoppen of Pilsener. In the mess-room the talk became more and more noisy, while in the adjoining rooms quieter conversation was the rule. A couple of inveterate card-players started a game of skat; and in the billiard-room Captain Madelung amused himself alone, making cannon after cannon. At his first miss he put down his cue and waited impatiently for the colonel's departure, that being the signal for the official close of the festivity. Madelung left almost immediately after Falkenhein, and the majority of the married men followed his example.

At last only lieutenants remained, except Major Schrader and Captain von Gropphusen. The one other senior officer, Captain Mohr, did not count. He had not quitted his seat the whole evening, and still went on persistently drinking with the assistant-surgeon, an exceedingly stout man, with a face scarred by students' fights. The scars were glowing now as if they would burst.

The subalterns could feel quite at their ease, for Schrader and Gropphusen were no spoil-sports.

Manitius now sang his "BehÜet dich Gott," rather unsteadily, accompanied by Frommelt, who was quite tipsy. The song was a great success, for the young avantageur was overcome by emotion, and began blubbering about a certain Martha whom he loved prodigiously, and whom he must now abandon, because he would never be permitted to marry a barmaid. On this Schrader suddenly tore open his uniform and offered him nourishment from his hairy breast, and the boy sank weeping into his arms.

At last the comedy grew wearisome. The avantageur was sent off to bed, and Frommelt had to play a cancan, to which Gropphusen and Landsberg danced. Gropphusen was supple and agile, and, with his pale, handsome, rather worn face, looked a perfect Montmartre type. Landsberg, on the contrary, cut a grotesque figure, kicking up his long shoes in the air, and as he did so almost choking in his unduly high collar.

The company became smaller and smaller, and at last only two groups were left.

In the card-room half-a-dozen men still sat awhile at one of the tables, and in the mess-room Captain Mohr and the junior surgeon continued drinking. They had long ago given up conversation; but occasionally one of them would say "Prosit!" and then they would both drink. When at last they left their seats they found the orderly in the ante-room half-asleep, half drunk, fallen from his chair, and lying snoring on the ground.

Growling "Damned swine!" the assistant-surgeon kicked the man till he rose, and with an effort stood upright.

When the last two officers had left the mess-house he locked the doors, drank the end of a bottle of champagne, and lay down to sleep on the sofa in the smoking-room.

The sofa-cover was a sacred relic, a present to the mess-house from an officer in the East African forces, who had formerly belonged to the regiment. It was a magnificent specimen of Oriental art. The orderly found the thick gold embroidery very uncomfortable to his cheek; but then it certainly was a fine thing to scratch his head with!

When Reimers, who had left early, reached his quarters, he was surprised to find his servant waiting up for him.

"Why on earth are you not in bed?" he inquired.

GÄhler answered respectfully, "Beg pardon, sir, on such occasions the count used sometimes to need me; he often went out again."

"Well, I don't. So remember that in future," enjoined Reimers.

GÄhler still waited, and asked, "Would you like some tea, sir?"

Reimers looked up. Not a bad idea that! He was too much excited to sleep, for he had been obliged to pledge his comrades far too often, and a cup of tea would be just the thing. After that he would read a few pages, and only then try to go to sleep.

"Yes, make me some tea," he assented, "but not too strong."

He put on a comfortable smoking-jacket. GÄhler brought his tea almost immediately, and with it a plate of anchovy sandwiches.

Reimers smiled. It certainly paid to have for one's servant the quondam groom of an elegant cavalry officer. He gave GÄhler a friendly nod, and said, "I think, GÄhler, that we shall get on capitally together."

The gunner stood at attention.

"Any other orders, sir?" he asked.

"No. Good-night."

"Good-night, sir."

Reimers ate a few mouthfuls as he walked up and down the room; then he carried the green-shaded lamp to his writing-table, and took down a volume of the official history of the great Franco-Prussian War.

He spread out the marvellously accurate maps, and began, as he had done so often before, to follow the various phases of his favourite battle, the three days' fight on the Lisaine. That was the only great defensive battle of the campaign, clearer and easier to follow than any other in its simple tactics, almost suggesting the typical example of a textbook, and yet what a living reality! Almost at the same moment when the German Empire was being proclaimed at Versailles, Bavarians were fighting shoulder to shoulder with East Prussians, regiments from Schleswig next those from Upper Silesia, soldiers from the Rhine-provinces side by side with soldiers from Saxony: a glorious demonstration of the newly achieved unity.

His admiration for the valiant defenders was no greater than his pity for the tragic fate of the attacking army, which, almost dying of starvation, had fought with the wild courage of despair, and had deserved a more honourable reward than to be driven along that terrible path of suffering to the Swiss frontier. Not less tragic was the fate of its commander; a fate, indeed, which Bourbaki shared with the other military leaders of the Republic. All those generals, Aurelle de Paladines, Chanzy, Faidherbe, Bourbaki, who at the brave but somewhat futile summons of the Committee of National Defence tried to arrest the victorious advance of the German army, were inevitably doomed to defeat; and even the inspiration of a military genius could not have got over the fundamental mistake that had been made, of considering the impossible possible.

Reimers looked up from the book with a glowing face. He had followed the French army as far as Pontarlier. That was the moment in which the German forces commanded the largest area. In the west the Rhinelanders were gazing astonished at the winter waves on the canal, while to the east, Pomeranians greeted the sentinels of the Swiss frontier.

Where in all the world could a nation be found richer in honour and in victories?

During the next few days Reimers had to make calls on the ladies of the regiment.

It was wearisome work, answering the same questions over and over again; and once more he had proof of the fact that against certain conditions time seems powerless. Some of the young married women had during his absence become mothers; but most of the ladies of the regiment presided without change over the solid domestic comfort of their house-holds. The main thing noticeable was that they had sacrificed themselves with greater or less success to fashion, which was just now in favour of slender figures.

The course of their conversation was almost literally the same as of yore, and in each case the curiosity shown was of exactly the same degree, except that Captain Heuschkel's wife, who was president of the Red Cross Society, inquired as to the care of the wounded in South Africa; while the lady who presided over the Home Missions wished to know if the Boers were really as pious as they were represented to be.

This monotony was, to a certain extent, the result of natural selection. Most of the officers had chosen their wives very carefully, and this had brought about a fine similarity in their views, a similarity which even found expression in the rather unattractive arrangement of their dwellings, in which the upholsterer's hand was but too evident.

Only two ladies, the wives of Captains von Stuckardt and von Gropphusen, differed from this type.

Frau von Stuckardt was unjustly considered haughty. She was merely unfortunate in being unable to adapt herself to the mental atmosphere of the other ladies. She had been placed for a couple of years in an institution for the daughters of the nobility, and was just preparing to enter a convent when Stuckardt, who was a distant cousin of hers, proposed to her. In her heart she regretted the worldly emotion to which she had then yielded; she believed that, by her marriage, she had defrauded the Church, and felt her conscience constantly oppressed by this grave offence. The interests of the other officers' wives puzzled her, doubly separated from them as she was by creed and by education; and when, under social compulsion, she gave a coffee-party, she sat among her guests like a being from a strange world, a pale and slender figure, always dressed in dark colours and wearing a cap of old lace upon her smoothly parted black hair; a striking contrast to the other fair, rosy, lively women in their gay gowns.

Frau von Gropphusen's parties were much more amusing. You could not be quite sure that she was not making fun of you; but you were certain to carry away on each occasion a supply of gossip which would last for weeks.

Externally, Gropphusen and his wife were exceedingly well matched. He was of medium height, with slender limbs and a pale, finely chiselled face, vivacious eyes, wavy dark hair, and a small black beard. She was one of those dainty blondes who remind one of iced champagne, with a marvellously graceful figure, a droll little nose, and steel blue eyes under dark eyebrows.

When first married they were madly in love with each other; but when the fire burnt out, Gropphusen went back to his old habits.

Truth to tell, he was a rake, who, even after marriage, thought nothing of spending dissipated nights week after week in the capital, returning by the early morning train. He seemed to have cast-iron nerves; for even the envious had to admit that his official work did not suffer. He had a clever head, and was an artist into the bargain, an excellent painter of horses; experts advised him to hang up his sword on a nail and devote himself to the brush. But he had not yet made up his mind to that.

Irregular in all other departments of life, he was regular only in his excesses. He was very rich, so that he could give the rein to almost all his whims. Indeed, reports of a rather fantastic kind, somewhat recalling Duke Charles of Brunswick, were current about him, the most extravagant being of a ballet he had had performed for him by fifty naked dancing girls. There was a certain amount of exaggeration about this, perhaps. In any case he troubled himself no longer about his young wife.

Hannah Gropphusen indemnified herself in her own way by coquetry and flirtations, and she was soon gossipped about as much as her husband. But those that whispered and chattered about her felt their consciences prick them when they carried their backbiting further; the young wife could never be accused of anything more serious.

It was noteworthy that Reimers had always felt more attracted by these exceptions among the officers' ladies than by the typical representatives of that class. He did not know why exactly, but he thought he saw a certain similarity between the position of these ladies and his own; these two and he were different from the average.

Unlike his comrades, he enjoyed visiting Frau von Stuckardt. She never talked platitudes, she would rather remain silent, and she was a little given to proselytising. Reimers liked to hear her subdued voice extolling the mysteries of the Catholic faith; he was proof against her endeavours, but a beneficent calm emanated from this unworldly woman, and he could feel with her that the spiritual renunciations of Catholicism offered a quiet resting-place to the world-weary.

The Gropphusen interested him. She was considered superficial and frivolous, but he did not think her really so. There was too much system in her frivolity and superficiality.

He had purposely left these two visits to the last. But Frau von Stuckardt was away from home; and when he handed his card to Frau von Gropphusen's servant he was told that the lady was unwell, but the man would ask if she could receive.

Reimers felt rather vexed, and was just turning away when the gunner returned and asked him to come in.

He conducted the lieutenant along the corridor. "My mistress is in her boudoir," he said.

Reimers was shown into a small room, the only window of which was darkened. Frau von Gropphusen half raised herself from a broad couch. She wore a loose tea-gown of soft silk, and had a light covering spread over her knees.

"Welcome back, Herr Reimers!" she said, and stretched out her hand to him.

Reimers bent over it respectfully, and kissed the tips of her fingers.

Then his young hostess let herself fell back again upon the couch and drew her hand across her forehead.

"I am not very well," she resumed; "but I could not refuse to see you."

"No, no, you must stay," she went on; for Reimers looked as if he meant to take leave at once. "There, sit down. Just wait a minute; I feel better already."

Reimers took a seat and glanced round the room. The couch almost filled it, the only other furniture being a dainty little writing-table in the window and a couple of chairs. Above the couch hung the only picture, a fine print of Gainsborough's Blue Boy.

In the meanwhile, Frau von Gropphusen had recovered herself. Her pretty pale face was lighted up by a somewhat melancholy smile, and she began softly: "No, really, I couldn't let you go!"

She raised herself again, drew her knees up beneath their covering, and clasped her arms round them. It was done quite simply and naturally, without any touch of coquetry. And then she stretched out her hand again to Reimers and said: "You, the champion of the Boers!" Then, supporting her chin on her knees, she continued: "But now you must tell me exactly why you fought for them?"

As Reimers was preparing to answer, she interrupted him: "No, I will question you. Wait a minute. Was it from love of adventure?"

"No. At least, that is not the right way of putting it. I wanted for once to see something of the serious side of my profession. But even that was not the chief reason."

"Well, then, was it in search of fame?"

Involuntarily Reimers deviated from his usual rule of answering evasively, and replied: "No; that was not it either. I wanted nothing for myself personally, or at most only to prove my fitness for my profession."

"But neither was that your principal motive?"

"Oh, no."

"Perhaps it was indignation against the strong who were oppressing the weak?"

Reimers was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Perhaps. But other things contributed; above all, boredom. And--I wanted a decision as to whether I was to live or not. I could not remain an invalid for ever."

"But still your chief, your final motive was the love of justice, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes."

Hannah Gropphusen sank back again languidly. For the third time she stretched out her hand to Reimers: "It rejoices me to find that such people still exist, and to know one of them!"

Reimers had held her hand for a moment in his own. It was a small hand, almost too thin, with slender fingers. As he looked at it, he was reminded of the gentle hands of his mother. He respectfully touched the beautiful fingers with his lips and rose. Frau von Gropphusen made no effort to detain him.

"It is perhaps better for me," she said wearily; and as he reached the door, she added: "But it has given me great pleasure to see you again," and she dismissed him with a friendly nod.

Reimers stood for a moment before the front door, thoughtfully buttoning his gloves.

It was certainly odd; the very woman whom every one else seemed to distrust appeared to him more worthy of esteem than any of the others. He realised this only after the visit just paid. To her alone had he answered frankly, and although they had hardly exchanged a dozen words, he felt they under-stood each other perfectly. He could not avoid the thought that their souls were akin. Each of them yearned after what was great and beautiful in life. This woman, indeed, deserved pity, for she had suffered shipwreck in the greatest and noblest end for which woman is created--in her love; but he, thank God, was a man; and his ideal, Germany, still stood out clear and definite, dwarfing mere personal aims.

In that dim room a sinister thought had seized upon him, oppressing and paralysing him; a vague foreboding that his fate would resemble that of this pale woman. But he chased the dark clouds away. His star did not vary in its light as does the shifting and drifting human mind; it was like the sun, steady, unchangeable, inspiring.