Trautvetter, where was Trautvetter?

At last he discovered him in the canteen.

"Trautvetter, you must lend me a hundred marks!" said the sergeant-major breathlessly.

"Must?" asked the one-year volunteer sarcastically. "Must? Not if I know it!"

Heppner had dragged him out of the canteen into the empty vestibule.

"Yes, yes, you must, Trautvetter!" he repeated.

Trautvetter now perceived the disturbed mien of the sergeant-major.

Something very particular must have happened, that was clear; and in such case he could not refuse to help. For it was no part of his plan to push this man to extremity.

"What's up?" he asked.

Heppner murmured, with some confusion: "Settling up accounts, all of a sudden--there is some money missing; of course I had meant to replace it."

Trautvetter understood, and was beginning to pull out his purse, but he suddenly hesitated.

"Why, I have got no money left!" he cried in dismay. "Must it be at once? To-morrow afternoon you can have as much as you want."

"No, no, at once! Wegstetten has only just gone over to headquarters for a minute."

"d.a.m.nation! What are we to do?"

The sergeant-major believed Trautvetter was doing this on purpose. He became more insistent, and implored: "Trautvetter, for heaven's sake help me just for once! I beg of you! I beg of you! lend me the money!"

With a shrug the volunteer held out his open purse. There were only a few silver pieces in it.

"You can see for yourself, Herr Heppner," he said. "I am not the sort of fellow to leave you in the lurch like that."

But Heppner could not yet believe him. He begged and threatened. At last the great big fellow threw himself on the ground and clung round Trautvetter's knees: "Just this once, just this once!"

The volunteer pushed him roughly away. The sight of the blubbering giant revolted him.

"Stand up, Heppner!" he insisted. "All this is no good. I would give you the money, but G.o.d knows I have none at the moment. Let us consider how we can get out of this."

The sergeant-major stood up again, and looked at him in suspense.

Suddenly Trautvetter pointed to the canteen: "He must lend us something," he whispered.

But the canteen-keeper objected to this. Even when Trautvetter offered him ten, twenty marks for the loan, he remained obstinate.

The volunteer struck the counter furiously.

"Pig-headed fool!" he cried. "Will you do it for fifty?"

The canteen-keeper hesitated. He had settled up the day before; there was not much risk for him, and fifty marks----!

"Give me your note-of-hand," he demanded,

And Trautvetter wrote him an I.O.U. for one hundred and fifty marks.

Heppner took the money, and when Wegstetten came into the orderly-room he found the sergeant-major counting over his cash.

This event made a powerful impression on the one-year volunteer. From the moment when Heppner had lain grovelling on the ground before him a thorough change came over Trautvetter. The whole scene had been unspeakably revolting to him; he was seized with a grim horror on his own account too. Half unconsciously the sight of the big imposing-looking man clamouring and pet.i.tioning on his knees made Trautvetter suddenly realise how near he himself stood to a similar degradation.

The next morning he gave the sergeant-major back his notes-of-hand.

Heppner coloured. "Why is this?" he asked. "Perhaps I shall be able to pay them up."

But Trautvetter answered quietly, "No, never mind! I only won the money from you in play, and gambling debts are not legally reclaimable. I ought never to have lent you the money in the first place." Then suddenly Trautvetter a.s.sumed a severely respectful manner, and added, "I should like to ask you something, sir; and that is that you would promise me never to play again."

Heppner looked at him, astonished. Was all this irksome dependence on one of his subordinates, this degradation before the whole battery, really to come to an end? He could scarcely believe that any one could be so generous. But he could see that the one-year volunteer was in earnest, not simply making fun of him.

"Yes, I promise you, Trautvetter," he said firmly. "I will not play any more."

And for the moment he meant what he said; he felt that this was the right minute for making good resolutions and turning over a new leaf.

Some days later Wegstetten asked him: "How is the one-year volunteer Trautvetter behaving? I have been quite pleased with him on duty these last few days."

And Heppner answered: "He has been much more steady, sir; there has been no fault to find with him."

The commander of the battery nodded, well pleased.

"You see, sergeant," he said, "my plan has been a success. I think we will let him out of barracks again. You can tell him so."

Trautvetter had also returned all his notes-of-hand to his other debtor, Trumpeter-sergeant Henke.

The cornet-player did not feel constrained to any special feeling of grat.i.tude for this. He had never had the smallest intention of repaying the money, some hedge-lawyer having advised him of the fact that gambling debts were not legally recoverable.

Why therefore should he be grateful?

Lisbeth, on the contrary, his pretty fair-haired wife, was profoundly touched by Trautvetter's generosity.

"Dear, dear!" she sighed, "what a kind good man that volunteer must be, to give away such a lot of money!"

The trumpeter laughed at her: "Silly goose!" he said, "haven't I told you that they were gambling debts, and he could never have claimed them?"

"Well," remarked Lisbeth, "there were others too. Your new uniform was bought with the borrowed money, your beautiful patent leather shoes too, and half-a-dozen pairs of white gloves."

Her husband did not care to remember this: "Hold your tongue!" he growled; but his pretty wife insisted: "No, no, he must be a good kind man!"

"A drunken fat pig, that's what he is!" said Henke. "You can see that at a glance."

"That's as may be," replied Lisbeth calmly; and she proceeded to set forth to her wondering husband a plan she had conceived for increasing the financial resources of the household.