Frederick the Great and His Family [238]
lived, I would at least have a daughter."
He could speak no more, emotion arrested the words on his lips; he bowed to his friends and passed on to his lonely hut. His little table was spread, and the young girl who served him, and who slept in his hut at night, was just placing a dish of steaming potatoes before his plate. The old man sat down to his solitary meal; he ate only to sustain his body; his thoughts were far away; he took no pleasure in his food. In the middle of his meal he started up; a shadow had fallen across the window, and two loving, well-known eyes had seemed to look in on him. Buschman, as if paralyzed with delight, let fall his spoon and looked toward the door. Yes, the bolt moved, the door opened, and there stood the tall figure of a Prussian soldier.
The old man uttered a cry and extended his arms. "Oh, my son, my beloved son, do I indeed see you once more?"
"Yes, father, I am here; and God willing, we will never again be parted." And Charles Henry hastened to the outstretched arms of his father, and kissing him tenderly, pressed him to his heart.
"The thought of you, dear father, has led me here," he said; "but for you I would not have returned to Brunen; I should have wandered forth into the world--the world which is so much greater and more beautiful than I ever dreamed. But your dear old eyes were before me; I heard your loved voice, which called to me, and I returned to you."
"God be praised!" said his father, folding his hands, and raising his eyes gratefully toward heaven. "Oh how kind and merciful is God, to give me back my last, my only son, the support of my old age, the delight of my eyes! You will not leave me again. This is not merely a leave of absence; you have obtained your release, the war is ended, the king has declared peace."
The eyes of the old man were dimmed with tears; he did not perceive how Charles Henry trembled, and that a deep flush mounted to his brow.
"No, father," he said, with downcast eyes, "I will never leave you again. We have all returned home. It will be bright and gay once more in the village, and the work will go forward, for there is a great difference between a dozen old men and as many young ones. It was most needful for us to return. The corn is ripe, and should have been already gathered. We must go to work. To-morrow shall be a happy day for the village; the whole neighborhood shall perceive that the twelve young men of Brunen have returned. We met a violinist on the way, and we engaged him for to-morrow. He must play for us under the linden tree, and our fathers and mothers, and sisters and sweethearts must join us, and we will dance and sing and make merry."
"What a coincidence!" said the old shepherd, with a bright smile. "We had already decided that we would meet together tomorrow under the linden. We wished to sit there and mourn together over our lost sons. To sing and dance is much better, and perhaps the old grayheads will join you."
"You must dance with me, father," said Charles Henry, laughing. "I will take no refusal."
"I will, my son, I will; joy has made me young again, and if Phylax, the old graybeard, does not mind, and will allow me, I will dance with you, but you know he is always jealous of you. I am sure the whole village will envy you your gay young partner. But now, my son," he continued gravely, "tell me of our king, and how is it that he has declared peace so suddenly, and whether he has been victorious or the reverse."
"I know nothing of the king" said Charles Henry; "I was not near him, but in the division of the Duke of Brunswick."
"I know that, my son; but the duke would not proclaim peace without the knowledge and consent of the king."
"Oh, father, they will compel the king to make peace," cried Charles Henry. "And as for the Duke of Brunswick, he has given up the attack against Wesel and has withdrawn to Westphalia, and the French are in possession of the entire lowlands, which, it is to be hoped, they will retain."
"You hope that?" asked his father, with astonishment.
"Well, yes,
He could speak no more, emotion arrested the words on his lips; he bowed to his friends and passed on to his lonely hut. His little table was spread, and the young girl who served him, and who slept in his hut at night, was just placing a dish of steaming potatoes before his plate. The old man sat down to his solitary meal; he ate only to sustain his body; his thoughts were far away; he took no pleasure in his food. In the middle of his meal he started up; a shadow had fallen across the window, and two loving, well-known eyes had seemed to look in on him. Buschman, as if paralyzed with delight, let fall his spoon and looked toward the door. Yes, the bolt moved, the door opened, and there stood the tall figure of a Prussian soldier.
The old man uttered a cry and extended his arms. "Oh, my son, my beloved son, do I indeed see you once more?"
"Yes, father, I am here; and God willing, we will never again be parted." And Charles Henry hastened to the outstretched arms of his father, and kissing him tenderly, pressed him to his heart.
"The thought of you, dear father, has led me here," he said; "but for you I would not have returned to Brunen; I should have wandered forth into the world--the world which is so much greater and more beautiful than I ever dreamed. But your dear old eyes were before me; I heard your loved voice, which called to me, and I returned to you."
"God be praised!" said his father, folding his hands, and raising his eyes gratefully toward heaven. "Oh how kind and merciful is God, to give me back my last, my only son, the support of my old age, the delight of my eyes! You will not leave me again. This is not merely a leave of absence; you have obtained your release, the war is ended, the king has declared peace."
The eyes of the old man were dimmed with tears; he did not perceive how Charles Henry trembled, and that a deep flush mounted to his brow.
"No, father," he said, with downcast eyes, "I will never leave you again. We have all returned home. It will be bright and gay once more in the village, and the work will go forward, for there is a great difference between a dozen old men and as many young ones. It was most needful for us to return. The corn is ripe, and should have been already gathered. We must go to work. To-morrow shall be a happy day for the village; the whole neighborhood shall perceive that the twelve young men of Brunen have returned. We met a violinist on the way, and we engaged him for to-morrow. He must play for us under the linden tree, and our fathers and mothers, and sisters and sweethearts must join us, and we will dance and sing and make merry."
"What a coincidence!" said the old shepherd, with a bright smile. "We had already decided that we would meet together tomorrow under the linden. We wished to sit there and mourn together over our lost sons. To sing and dance is much better, and perhaps the old grayheads will join you."
"You must dance with me, father," said Charles Henry, laughing. "I will take no refusal."
"I will, my son, I will; joy has made me young again, and if Phylax, the old graybeard, does not mind, and will allow me, I will dance with you, but you know he is always jealous of you. I am sure the whole village will envy you your gay young partner. But now, my son," he continued gravely, "tell me of our king, and how is it that he has declared peace so suddenly, and whether he has been victorious or the reverse."
"I know nothing of the king" said Charles Henry; "I was not near him, but in the division of the Duke of Brunswick."
"I know that, my son; but the duke would not proclaim peace without the knowledge and consent of the king."
"Oh, father, they will compel the king to make peace," cried Charles Henry. "And as for the Duke of Brunswick, he has given up the attack against Wesel and has withdrawn to Westphalia, and the French are in possession of the entire lowlands, which, it is to be hoped, they will retain."
"You hope that?" asked his father, with astonishment.
"Well, yes,