Now, instead of turning this highly-developed intelligence to good account, they bound it hand and foot on the rack of an everlasting drill, which could not have been more soullessly mechanical in the time of Frederick the Great. And they expected this purely mechanical drill to hold together men from whom all joyful spontaneity was taken by the stiff, wooden formalism of their duty, and not a few of whom cherished the very opposite of patriotism in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s! Drill was to maintain discipline among them? It held them together as an iron hoop holds together a cask, the dry staves of which would fall asunder at the first kick!

Confronting the men stood their officers, who, although many of them actuated by the most honourable intentions, were quite incompetent to guide the recruits to a convinced and conscious obedience, a voluntary patriotism. The officer, as a consequence of his origin or education, was separated by a veritable abyss from the sensations and thoughts of the common soldier; and, on the other hand, the soldier was unable to understand the spirit in which he was treated by the officer. It thus came about that the officer for the most part had a pretty low opinion of the privates, while the private did not fail to form his own conclusions as to the officers.

The constancy with which the German corps of officers clung to the old principles of army organisation was worthy of a better cause. Pinning their faith to their glorious traditions, all criticism was set down as malicious gossip, even if it came from their own midst. To an ideal of such doubtful value they devoted their industry and strength. And it was strange how little the a.n.a.logy of the miserable year 1806 shook military self-confidence, despite the startling points of resemblance. Now, as then, the complaint was of the one-sided reactionary training of the officers, which must separate them from the forward movement of the people; now, as then, there was a kind of hidebound narrow-mindedness, too often degenerating into overweening self-conceit, making them a laughing-stock to civilians; and, finally, now as then, there were the same stiff, wooden regulations, the mechanical drill, which, despite all personal bravery, failed utterly before the convinced enthusiastic onrush of the revolutionary army. But worse than defeat in battles was the cowardly capitulation of strongholds which ensued. The commanders of those days certainly understood how to command the evolutions of a battalion, how to direct a parade march, and how to ensure that all pigtails were of the regulation length; but despite all the drill and all the pedantry, they remained strangers to the inspiration which inaugurated a new era of military service--the new patriotism, the love of one's country. They had stood in a strongly personal relationship to their king but it no longer sufficed to save them. They had shouted "Long live the king!"

thousands of times; yet they betrayed the king when they presumed he had lost because they knew no better.

They had _played_ too long at being soldiers to be able really to be soldiers.

Subsequently such men as Scharnhorst, Boyen, and Gneisenau directed the military service into the new paths of allegiance to the nation; a work which was crowned by the unexampled successes of the years 1870-71.

But since that epoch, while the foundation of the system--the people themselves--had with each new year altered and progressed in every relation of life, yet the system itself had remained unchanged, and the German officer's devotion to duty, similarly unchanged, was largely wasted by being directed into worn-out channels.

Again, it must be deeply deplored that promotions were no longer due to military efficiency alone, but also to victories achieved at the courts of princes. To this circ.u.mstance, opening up, as it did, an anything but rea.s.suring view of the good faith of the authorities, was to be added yet another, also tending to undermine the soundness of the army: the ever-increasing luxury apparent in military circles. Of necessity, and in the true interests of the army, the best material in the corps of officers--the members of the old n.o.ble and gentle "army n.o.bility"--were careful to shun this vice. These officers, whose families had often served the king as soldiers for four or five generations, held fast to a Spartan simplicity of life, and to the old Prussian independence of material comforts, and with them were all those who regarded their vocation as something loftier than an amus.e.m.e.nt. Otherwise, a most unsoldierlike luxury was spreading unhindered in all directions, causing the young subalterns especially to neglect their duties, and rendering them in great measure absolutely unfit for real hard work and privations. And despite the numerous orders levelled against them, these tendencies continued to increase, because of the lack of a good example in high quarters.

The plain and simple uniform in which so many great victories had been won no longer sufficed. New embellishments medals, cords, tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, or what not were eternally being devised. As though such mere external trumpery could create anew the now waning love for military service!

In what striking contrast stood the magnificent goblets of delicate porcelain and other costly materials, in which the officers of the Chinese Expedition offered champagne to their French comrades, to that broken-footed gla.s.s cup out of which--and in abominably bad wine--King William drank to the victors of St. Privat!

All became clear to Guntz as he wrote, and he felt as though a heavy burden were being lifted from his shoulders.

He concluded: "I can no longer regard as valuable the work which as an officer it is my duty to perform, and have therefore decided to resign my commission. Although I am only one small wheel in a large and complicated machine, I have still the right to give my opinion; and I am making use of that right because I recognise that the mechanical power which drives this machine is threatened with paralysis, and will, in my view, infallibly succ.u.mb unless there is an entire reconstruction of the whole fabric. That, I fear, is not to be expected within any reasonable time."

He laid down his pen, and looked thoughtfully at the closely written sheets.

Everything that he had set down had been well considered and frequently thought over; but was it right, after all, to send in his application just at this moment? Was it right for him to break the vow he had made to himself that he would test himself carefully, that he would pa.s.s a year in command of the battery before making his final decision? Ought he not to stand by the calling to which his life had been dedicated, until he could resign quite voluntarily, fully convinced, and without any extraneous considerations? Without, for instance, the danger of losing his life through the custom of this calling--a custom, just or unjust, but which at any rate was in operation and perfectly well known to him?

The lamp under the green shade began to burn less brightly, and flickered with a quick hissing sound. The hands of the cuckoo-clock pointed to half-past four.

Guntz got up and stretched himself. He walked firmly to the window, pushed the curtains far back, and opened both sides of the cas.e.m.e.nt.

Outside the warm summer's night was giving place to the dawn of day. A cool morning breeze blew into the room, fluttering the curtains, and extinguishing the lamp's weak flame. It cooled the man's eyes and filled his lungs with fresh air.

Guntz drew himself up. He returned to the writing-table, placed the loose leaves carefully in order, and locked them in a drawer.

Right or wrong he would keep his word.

He scribbled a few words on a sheet of paper: "My Klare, I love you unspeakably. You and the boy. Be brave!"

He glanced round to see where he should lay the paper. In the end he folded it up, and put it under a meteoric stone, shaped like a fungus, which during their honeymoon he had found on the sand-dunes of the Heligoland coast.

The servant knocked, and brought in the coffee. He had found the senior-lieutenant's bed untouched, and his face showed his surprise.

The coffee was too hot, but the water in the carafe was deliciously cold. Guntz damped his handkerchief and wiped the ravages of the night from his brow and eyes.

Then he went again to the window and the refreshing morning breeze. He was in good spirits. He felt as if nothing untoward could happen to him that day.

There was a sound of hoofs in the street outside. The groom had brought the brown mare. He held the animal before the garden gate and carefully took a piece of straw out of her mane.

Guntz told him to walk her quietly up and down. He must wait for Reimers, who would be sure to come directly.

Soon in between the measured paces of the led horse came the sound of a quicker step. Guntz recognised the fidgety trot for that of Reimers horse "Jay." He went out of the house and through the iron gate into the street.

"Morning, my boy!" he said, and offered his hand to Reimers. Then he mounted, and both trotted down the street in silence.

Once outside the town Guntz let his mare slow down. "We are in plenty of time," he said.

Suddenly he stopped and listened. A horse's trot and the rumbling of a carriage could be heard coming from the town.

"The others," said the senior-lieutenant. "Let us get on."

The pistol practice-ground lay half way up the incline upon a shelf-like terrace of the hillside, a smooth gra.s.sy s.p.a.ce, surrounded on both sides by high bushes; at the lower end there was a shed built of strong boards, in which tools and targets were stored.

Guntz and Reimers dismounted at the shed, and fastened up their horses by the bridle. Reimers pressed his friend's hand once more, gazing at him with anxious eyes. He could not speak.

They stood side by side on the edge of the terrace, whence they could look down upon the country road in the valley below. A carriage was approaching, followed by three riders: Landsberg, little Dr. von Froben, his second, and Gretzschel, who was brought chiefly to look after the horses.

The carriage stopped at the foot of the hill. Kauerhof got out, with the pistol cases in his hand, and after him the surgeon-major and his a.s.sistant, both with instrument cases. The three other men rode slowly behind them up the steep incline.

Before the shed, brief polite greetings were exchanged, Gretzschel remaining there with the horses.

There was a singular expression of shyness on the faces of all. One might have fancied that these men were a.s.sembled for some guilty purpose. Guntz alone looked frank and unembarra.s.sed.

The prescribed attempts at reconciliation were unsuccessful. Guntz shook his head in refusal.

Then Kauerhof began to measure the distance. He had long legs, and he made the fifteen paces as lengthy as possible.

Just at this moment the sun rose above the mountains on the other side of the valley.

Kauerhof loaded the pistols, and the seconds carried them to their princ.i.p.als. Guntz nodded cheerfully to Reimers as he took his weapon.

The umpire then took up his position and convinced himself with a glance that all was prepared. The duellists were standing at their marked lines, the seconds at a little distance alongside of them. He took out his watch, and glancing at it said: "I shall count: ready, one, then three seconds; two, and again three seconds; then, stop!

Between one and stop, the gentlemen may fire."

He glanced round once more. The four officers stood motionless in the clear light of the sun, Landsberg sideways, Guntz with his broad chest facing his opponent. The junior surgeon wiped the moisture from his brow; Andreae tugged nervously at his hair.

The umpire counted.

Landsberg raised his pistol at once and fired. Guntz heard the bullet whizz past on his left. He had directed his barrel a little to the side of his opponent's shoulder, and pressed the trigger. The shot missed fire. He had forgotten to c.o.c.k the pistol.

The second attempt at reconciliation was also unsuccessful.

Again Kauerhof gave the word.

Guntz saw Landsberg's pistol aimed directly at his breast. Then Landsberg looked up, and for the hundredth part of a second caught his opponent's gaze.

Landsberg's aim was unerringly directed on his man, when suddenly his hand began to shake, and he fired blindly, just as he heard Guntz's bullet whistle past him.

Guntz stood unharmed, a happy smile on his good-natured, open face.