The Breaking of the Storm

that swift as an arrow bursts through the sedges on the bank, had not been safe from my gun, and the officer sat for a full minute as quietly on his horse, in the midst of the hottest shower of balls, as if man and horse had been carved in stone. More than once was my rifle pointed; I said to myself that I must kill the officer, that this one man was more dangerous to the cause for which I was fighting than whole regiments; in fact that he was the personification of the cause for which he fought. I could not make up my mind. It was doubtless the respect that one brave man has for another⁠—this time to my cost, for I was convinced that this man, if ever I were in his power, would kill me without mercy, like a poisonous snake; and he confirmed my expectations. The battalion that he commanded was ordered to retire; I saw that he exchanged warm words with the officer who brought the order; I fancied I could see that he debated within himself whether he should or should not obey the command, which he considered at once as stupid and disgraceful⁠—and from his point of view rightly; we could not have held out five minutes longer. Military discipline conquered; he rode close in front of the barricade, and said, while he thrust his sword into the scabbard: ‘I have orders to retire; if it depended upon me I would overthrow you all and put every man of you to the sword.’ Then he turned his horse and rode back at a foot’s pace. Even death by a shot from behind had no terrors for him in this moment. A few balls did indeed whistle past him, but the bullets which had spared his brave breast did not touch his back.”

Uncle Ernst was once more silent. The room had become almost dark; the drizzling mist had turned into heavy rain; the large drops beat against the windowpanes, and the clock on the chimneypiece ticked loudly.

The General had leaned his head heavily on his hand, and he did not raise it while he said, as before, in a curiously low, almost broken voice:

“Go on, I beg!”

“The battle was at an end here; but from the centre of the town was still heard the thunder of cannon and rattle of musketry. I hastened to the spot where there seemed to be still something to do. I had to cross the Königsstrasse if I did not wish to go a long way round; I made the attempt, although I was told that it was in the hands of the troops already almost as far as the Alexanderplatz. My attempt failed; a quarter of an hour later I was a prisoner in the cellars of the King’s palace.

“I pass over the horrors of that night; a man must have experienced it, when the close poisonous air, around the hundreds that were huddled together, seemed to transform itself into grinning devils, which whispered and mocked ceaselessly: ‘In vain! in vain! Fool, fool! The cause for which you fought is hopelessly lost⁠—lost! A man must have experienced that!

“About four o’clock we were led away, driven, hunted to Spandau. My strength was not yet broken, but weaker men gave way. Near me was a pale youth, a delicate young student, in spectacles. He had held out bravely as long as he could, but he could bear no more. Though he clenched his teeth, the tears would burst forth when a blow in the back from the butt-end of a musket forced him to exertions of which he was no longer capable. Blood flowed from his eyes and mouth; I could no longer bear the sight of his sufferings, I rushed forward, throwing down all before me, towards an officer who rode alongside, and cried to him: ‘If you are a man do not suffer such unmanly cruelties to be perpetrated close to you!’ I was frantic; I believe I had seized his horse by the bridle. The officer may have thought it was a personal attack; he spurred his horse which reared and threw me down. I started up again immediately: ‘If you are a man!’ I cried again, once more throwing myself before him. ‘Democrat!’ and he gnashed his teeth, ‘then die if you will have it so!’ He raised himself in his stirrups, his sword whistled over me. My broad-brimmed hat and my thick hair lessened the force of the blow, but I sank on my knee, and for a moment lost consciousness. It could only have been a moment. The next I stood there again, determined to sell my life dearly, when another officer hastened up, bringing a message to the first, an order⁠—I do not know what⁠—on which the latter, exclaiming ‘Is it possible?’ turned his horse. At that moment the moon, which had been hidden behind black clouds, shone out; by its light I recognised distinctly in the officer my opponent at the barricade. He galloped away. ‘We shall meet for the third time!’ I cried after him, while I was forced back into the ranks with blows; ‘perhaps it will be my turn then, and’⁠—I swore a deep oath⁠—‘then I will not again spare you.’

“Since that night four and twenty years have passed; I have seen the officer often and often; naturally he did not know me; I should have known him among millions. Since that time our hair and beards have grown grey; I swear to God that I wished and hoped that that third time would be spared me. It was not to be; he and I now stand here for the third time face to face.”

Both men had risen in their excitement. Neither dared to look at the other; each shrank from saying the next word. The heavy drops rattled against the windows; the clock on the chimneypiece prepared to strike. The General knew the word that