Frederick the Great and His Family [148]
never find another Winterfeldt." [Footnote: The king's own words.--Retzow, vol. i.. p. 220.] The king leaned his head upon his breast, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
"How solitary, how joyless life is! how rich I was once in friends, how poor I am now! and who knows how much poorer I may be to-morrow at this hour--who knows if I shall have a place to lay my head?--I may be a fugitive, without home or country. Verily, I have the destiny of Mithridates--I want only two sons and a Monima. Well," continued he, with a soft smile, "it is still something to stand alone--misfortunes only strike home. But do I stand alone? have I not an entire people looking to me and expecting me to do my duty? Have I not brave soldiers, who call me father, looking death courageously in the face and hazarding their lives for me? No, I am not alone--and if Mithridates had two sons, I have thirty-three thousand. I will go and bid them good-evening. I think it will refresh my sad heart to hear their cheerful greetings."
The king threw on his mantle and left his quarters, to make, as he was often accustomed to do, a tour through the camp. Only the officer on guard followed him, at a short distance.
It was now dark, and fires, which were lighted everywhere, gave a little protection against the biting cold. It was a beautiful sight- -the wide plain, with its numberless, blazing, flickering fires, surrounded by groups of cheerful soldiers, their fresh faces glowing with the light of the flames. In the distance the moon rose grand and full, illuminating the scene with its silver rays, and blending its pale shimmer with the ruddy flames.
The king walked briskly through the camp, and, when recognized, the soldiers greeted him with shouts and loving words. As he approached a large fire, over which hung a big kettle, the contents of which filled the air with savory odors, he heard a brisk voice say:
"Now, comrades, come and eat, the noodles are done!"
"Hurrah! here we are," cried the boys, who were standing not far off, chatting merrily. They sprang forward joyfully, to eat the longed--for noodles.
The king, recognizing the soldiers who had uncovered his roof, drew near to the fire.
"Shall I also come and eat with you?" he said, good-humoredly.
The soldiers looked up from the tin plates, in which the noodles were swimming.
"Yes, sire," said Fritz Kober, jumping up and approaching the king; "yes, you shall eat with us; here is my spoon and knife, and if you reject it, and are only mocking us, I shall be very angry indeed."
The king laughed, and turning to the officer who had followed him, said as if to excuse himself:
"I must really eat, or I shall make the man furious.--Give me your spoon; but listen, I can tell you, if the noodles are not good, I shall be angry." He took the plate and began to eat.
The soldiers all stopped, and looked eagerly at the king. When he had swallowed the first bite, Fritz Kober could no longer restrain his curiosity.
"Well, sire," he said, triumphantly, "what do you say to it! Can't Buschman prepare better noodles than your cleverest cook?"
"Verily," said the king, smiling, "he never cooked such noodles for me, and I must say they are good, but, now I have had enough, and I am much obliged to you."
He wished to return his plate to Fritz Kober, but Fritz shook his head violently.
"See here, your majesty, no one gets off from us with just a 'thank you,' and you, least of all, sire; every one must pay his part."
"Well," said the king, "how much is my share?"
"It cost each of us three groschen; the king may pay what he pleases."
"Will you credit me, dragoon?" said the king, who searched his pockets in vain for money.
"Oh! yes, your majesty, I will credit you, but only until tomorrow morning, early; for, if a cannon-ball took my head off, I could not dun your majesty, and you would be my debtor to all eternity."
"It would then be better to settle our accounts to-day," said the king, and nodding to the soldiers, he left them.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WATCH-FIRE.
"How solitary, how joyless life is! how rich I was once in friends, how poor I am now! and who knows how much poorer I may be to-morrow at this hour--who knows if I shall have a place to lay my head?--I may be a fugitive, without home or country. Verily, I have the destiny of Mithridates--I want only two sons and a Monima. Well," continued he, with a soft smile, "it is still something to stand alone--misfortunes only strike home. But do I stand alone? have I not an entire people looking to me and expecting me to do my duty? Have I not brave soldiers, who call me father, looking death courageously in the face and hazarding their lives for me? No, I am not alone--and if Mithridates had two sons, I have thirty-three thousand. I will go and bid them good-evening. I think it will refresh my sad heart to hear their cheerful greetings."
The king threw on his mantle and left his quarters, to make, as he was often accustomed to do, a tour through the camp. Only the officer on guard followed him, at a short distance.
It was now dark, and fires, which were lighted everywhere, gave a little protection against the biting cold. It was a beautiful sight- -the wide plain, with its numberless, blazing, flickering fires, surrounded by groups of cheerful soldiers, their fresh faces glowing with the light of the flames. In the distance the moon rose grand and full, illuminating the scene with its silver rays, and blending its pale shimmer with the ruddy flames.
The king walked briskly through the camp, and, when recognized, the soldiers greeted him with shouts and loving words. As he approached a large fire, over which hung a big kettle, the contents of which filled the air with savory odors, he heard a brisk voice say:
"Now, comrades, come and eat, the noodles are done!"
"Hurrah! here we are," cried the boys, who were standing not far off, chatting merrily. They sprang forward joyfully, to eat the longed--for noodles.
The king, recognizing the soldiers who had uncovered his roof, drew near to the fire.
"Shall I also come and eat with you?" he said, good-humoredly.
The soldiers looked up from the tin plates, in which the noodles were swimming.
"Yes, sire," said Fritz Kober, jumping up and approaching the king; "yes, you shall eat with us; here is my spoon and knife, and if you reject it, and are only mocking us, I shall be very angry indeed."
The king laughed, and turning to the officer who had followed him, said as if to excuse himself:
"I must really eat, or I shall make the man furious.--Give me your spoon; but listen, I can tell you, if the noodles are not good, I shall be angry." He took the plate and began to eat.
The soldiers all stopped, and looked eagerly at the king. When he had swallowed the first bite, Fritz Kober could no longer restrain his curiosity.
"Well, sire," he said, triumphantly, "what do you say to it! Can't Buschman prepare better noodles than your cleverest cook?"
"Verily," said the king, smiling, "he never cooked such noodles for me, and I must say they are good, but, now I have had enough, and I am much obliged to you."
He wished to return his plate to Fritz Kober, but Fritz shook his head violently.
"See here, your majesty, no one gets off from us with just a 'thank you,' and you, least of all, sire; every one must pay his part."
"Well," said the king, "how much is my share?"
"It cost each of us three groschen; the king may pay what he pleases."
"Will you credit me, dragoon?" said the king, who searched his pockets in vain for money.
"Oh! yes, your majesty, I will credit you, but only until tomorrow morning, early; for, if a cannon-ball took my head off, I could not dun your majesty, and you would be my debtor to all eternity."
"It would then be better to settle our accounts to-day," said the king, and nodding to the soldiers, he left them.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WATCH-FIRE.