Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia | Page 4

it, for it turned and slipped away even
faster than it had approached, and disappeared in the corner.
The sun rose higher, and shone down on the dimmed windows of the
house, reflecting their yellow outlines on the floor, and illuminated the
gold lace adorning the uniform of the prostrate and motionless officer.

All at once the silence was broken by the approach of hurried steps, and
a loud voice was heard near at hand, shouting:
"Is there anybody in the house?"
Then every thing was still again. The new-comer was evidently waiting
for a reply. After a pause, the steps drew nearer--now they were already
in the hall; and now the tall, slender form of a Prussian officer, with a
bandaged head and arm, appeared on the threshold of the room. When
he beheld the immovable body on the floor, his pale face expressed
surprise and compassion.
"An officer of the queen's dragoons!" he ejaculated, and in the next
moment he was by his side. He knelt down, and placed his hand
inquiringly on the heart and forehead of the prostrate officer.
"He is warm still," he murmured, "and it seems to me his heart is yet
beating. Perhaps, perhaps he only fainted from loss of blood, just as I
did before my wounds had been dressed. Let us see."
He hastily drew a flask from his bosom, and pouring some of its
contents into his hand, he washed with it the forehead and temples of
his poor comrade.
A slight shudder now pervaded his whole frame, and he looked with a
half-unconscious, dreamy glance into the face of the stranger, who had
bent over him with an air of heart-felt sympathy.
"Where am I?" he asked, in a low, tremulous voice.
"With a comrade," said the other, kindly. "With a companion in
misfortune who is wounded, and a fugitive like you. I am an officer of
the Hohenlohe regiment, and fought at Jena. Since last night I have
been wandering about, constantly exposed to the danger of falling into
the hands of the enemy. My name is Pückler--it is a good Prussian
name. You see, therefore, it is a friend who is assisting his poor
comrade, and you need not fear any thing. Now, tell me what I can do
for you?"

"Water, water!" groaned the wounded officer, "water!"
"You had better take some of my wine here," said the other; "it will
quench your thirst, and invigorate you at the same time."
He held the flask to the lips of his comrade, and made him sip a little of
his wine.
"Now it is enough," he said, withdrawing the flask from his lips. "Since
you have quenched your thirst, comrade, would you not like to eat a
piece of bread and some meat? Ah, you smile; you are surprised
because I guess your wishes and know your sufferings. You need not
wonder at it, however, comrade, for I have undergone just the same
torture as you. Above all, you must eat something."
While speaking, he had produced from his knapsack a loaf of bread and
a piece of roast chicken, and cutting a few slices from both, placed
them tenderly in the mouth of the sufferer, looking on with smiling joy
while the other moved his jaws, slowly at first, but soon more rapidly
and eagerly.
"Now another draught of wine, comrade," he said, "and then, I may
dare to give you some more food. Hush! do not say a word--it is a
sacred work you are doing now, a work by which you are just about to
save a human life. You must not, therefore, interrupt it by any
superfluous protestations of gratitude. Moreover, your words are
written in your eyes, and you cannot tell me any thing better and more
beautiful than what I am reading therein. Drink! So! And here is a piece
of bread and a wing of the chicken. While you are eating, I will look
around in the yard and garden to find there some water to wash your
wounds."
Without waiting for a reply, he hastily left the officer alone with the
piece of bread, the wing of the chicken, and the flask. When he
returned, about fifteen minutes later, with a jar filled with water, the
bread and meat had disappeared; but instead of the pale, immovable,
and cadaverous being, he found seated on the floor a young man with
flashing eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks, and a gentle smile on his lips.

"You have saved me," he said, extending his hand toward his returning
comrade. "I should have died of hunger and exhaustion, if you had not
relieved me so mercifully."
"Comrade," said the officer, smiling, "you have just repeated the same
words which I addressed two hours ago