Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia | Page 6

accomplishing," said Count Pückler, kindly offering his hand to
Lieutenant von Schill. "Yet now let us not think of the future, but of the
present. We are disabled, and will be helpless as soon as the
wound-fever sets in; and we may be sure that that will be to-night. We
must, therefore, find a place of refuge; for, if we remain here, without
assistance, and without food, we shall surely be lost."
"You are right; we must leave this house," said Schill; "we must try to
reach a city or village. Come, let us go. You are armed, and I have got a
sabre, too. Let us go, but previously let us swear that we will not
surrender to the French, but rather die, even should it be necessary to
commit suicide! You have a knife, and when you cut some bread for
me, I saw that it was very sharp. Will you give it to me?"
"What for?"
"I want to stab myself, as soon as I see that I cannot escape from the
enemy!"
"And I? What is to become of me?"
"Before killing myself, I will stab you with my sabre. Will that content
you?"

"It will. Be careful, however, to hit my heart; do not merely wound, but
kill me."
"Ah, I see that we understand each other, and that the same heart is
pulsating in our breast!" exclaimed Schill, joyfully. "Let us die, rather
than be captured by the enemy and depend on the mercy of the
Corsican tyrant! Now, comrade, let us go! For you are right; the
wound-fever will set in toward evening, and without assistance we
shall be lost."
"Come," said Pückler, "place your uninjured arm in mine. It seems fate
has destined us for each other, for it has ruined your right arm and my
left arm; thus we can walk at least side by side, mutually supporting
ourselves. I shall be your right hand, and you will lend me your left arm
when I have to embrace anybody. But, it is true, no one will now care
for our embrace; every one will mock and deride us, and try to read in
the bloody handwriting on our foreheads: 'He is also one of the
vanquished Prussians!'"
"Comrade, did you not tell me a little while ago, that it would be better
for us to attend to our own affairs, before talking about other matters?"
"It is true; let us go!"
And, leaning on each other, the two officers left the house.
CHAPTER II.
THE GERMAN SONG.
It was a sunny morning in autumn; the two wounded officers were
inhaling the bracing air in long draughts, and their eyes were wandering
over the transparent sky and the picturesque landscape.
"And to think that my eyes would never more have seen all this, if you
had not had mercy on me!" said Schill, with a grateful glance at his
companion.

"Ah, my friend," sighed Pückler, mournfully, "we shall not always
behold the sky and this beautiful, silent scene, but it may easily happen
that we shall see much misery to-day, and that you will curse your eyes
for being compelled to perceive it! Still you are right--it is better to live,
even in anguish and distress, than to die in anguish and distress; for he
who lives has still a future before him, and is able to strive in it for
revenge and compensation for the past. Let us descry our immediate
future from the hill yonder, and there decide on the direction we shall
take."
They walked toward the neighboring hill. Frequently they had to stop
on the way; frequently they sank down exhausted; but their will and
youthful energy overcame their weakness, and finally they reached
their destination: they stood on the summit, and were able to survey the
whole country for miles around.
"Yonder, where that dreadful smoke is rising, is the battle-field of
Auerstadt!" said Schill, after a long pause, during which they had taken
breath.
"Yes, and beyond those hills is Jena," said Pückler, sadly. "Those are
two melancholy names for a Prussian ear, and, like Ulysses, I should
like to close mine so as not to hear that siren voice of death any more;
for, I tell you, whenever I hear those two names, I am driven to despair,
and would like to throw myself into that abyss!"
"My friend, it seems to me we are already in the abyss, and our first
and most earnest endeavors should be directed toward saving us from
it," said Schill, shrugging his shoulders. "Our first step should be to get
safely through the enemy's lines, in order to escape from the dangers to
which a collision with the French would expose us. Whither shall we
turn now? Have you formed already