As he fell from his horse, Karl, who was riding behind him, leapt from his saddle with a hoarse cry of rage. Then, seeing the nature of the wound, he lifted him in his arms, mounted Fergus's horse, and rode down through an interval between the regiments of the second line; and then into the wood, to the spot where the surgeons were dressing the wounds of those hurt in the first charge. One who had just finished attending one of the grenadiers, seeing that the trooper was carrying a colonel of the king's staff, at once helped Karl to lower him to the ground.

"You have done well to bring him down at once, my man," he said. "It may be the saving of his life."

As he spoke, he was cutting off the tunic.

"There is not much flow of blood. You see, the contusion has closed the main artery. If we can keep it from bursting out, he will do."

He took out from his case some stout tape, passed it round the arm, asked Karl for a ramrod out of one his pistols and, with this, twisted the tape until it almost cut into the skin. Then he gave a few more turns, to hold the ramrod securely in its place. Then he called a young surgeon to him.

"We had better make a good job of this, at once," he said. "This is Colonel Drummond, one of the king's favourite officers, and a most gallant young fellow. It will not take us five minutes."

The artery was first found and tied up; for Prussian surgery was, at that time, far ahead of our own. The bruised flesh was pressed up, the bone cut off neatly, above the point where it was splintered, the flesh brought down again over it and trimmed, then several thicknesses of lint put over it, and the whole carefully bandaged up.

"There," he said to Karl, as he rose from his work, "that is all that I can do for him; and unless it bursts out bleeding again, he is likely to do well. If it does, you must tighten that tape still more. All there is to do is to keep him as quiet as possible.

"Have you any spirits?"

"Yes, doctor, there is a flask in his holster."

"Mix some with as much water, and pour a little down his throat from time to time. Fold his cloak, and put it under his head. He will probably recover consciousness in a short time. When he does so, impress upon him the necessity of lying perfectly quiet. As soon as the battle is over, we must get him moved into shelter."

In half an hour Fergus opened his eyes. Karl, who was kneeling by him, placed one hand on his chest and the other on the wounded arm.

"You must not move, colonel," he said. "You have been hit, but the doctor says you will get over it; but you must lie perfectly still."

Fergus looked round in bewilderment. Then, as the roar of the battle came to his ears, he made an instinctive effort to rise.

"It is going on still," Karl said, repressing the movement. "We shall thrash them, presently; but you can do nothing more today, and you must do as the doctor bids you, sir."

"Where am I hit?"

"It is on the left arm, colonel. An Austrian cannonball did the business. If it had been three or four inches farther to the right, it would have finished you. As it is, I hope that you will soon get about again."

"Then it has taken off my arm," Fergus said feebly.

"Better that than your head, sir. The left arm is of no great account, except for holding a bridle; and there is a good bit of it left.

"Drink a little more of this brandy and water. How do you feel now, sir?"

"I feel cold," Fergus replied. "My feet are like ice."

Karl wrapped Fergus's fur-lined pelisse round his feet, undid his blanket and cloak from his saddle, and laid them over him.

"That will be better, sir. Now, if you will promise to lie quite quiet, I will fasten your horse up—I don't know what has become of mine—and will go and collect some firewood and get up a good blaze. I am afraid there is no chance of getting you into a shelter, tonight."

"I am afraid we are being driven down the hill again, Karl. The roll of musketry is coming nearer."

"That is so, colonel; but we shall have the cavalry up soon, and that will make all the difference."

Just as Karl came back with an armful of firewood, a staff officer rode up.

"The king has sent me to inquire how Colonel Drummond is," he said. "His majesty has heard that he is badly wounded, and has been carried here."

"This is the colonel, major," Karl said, leading him to the side of Fergus.

"I am sorry to see you here," the officer said. "The king has sent me to inquire after you."

"Will you thank his majesty, Major Kaulbach; and tell him that it is nothing worse than the loss of a left arm, and that the surgeon's opinion is that I shall do well. How goes the battle?"

"Badly, badly; but Holstein will be up in a quarter of an hour, and then we shall have another try. We broke their line badly, last time; and if we had had cavalry to launch at them, we should have managed the business."

"The king is unhurt, I hope."

"Not altogether. He was struck from his horse by a piece of case shot, but his pelisse saved him. He was able to mount again in a few minutes, making very light of the affair; and was in the middle of the fight, as usual. I was next you when you were hit, and I saw your orderly lift you on to your horse before him and, as soon as we got down here, reported it to the king."

"Our loss must be terribly heavy."

"Terrible! There is no saying how severe it is, yet; but not half the grenadiers are on their feet.

"There is nothing I can do for you?"

"Nothing at all. My orders are to lie still; and as I feel too weak to move, and there is no one to carry me away, and nowhere to take me to, I am not likely to disobey the order."

The officer rode off again. Karl soon had a fire lighted, sufficiently close to Fergus for him to feel its warmth. Wounded men, who had made their way down the hill, came and sat down on the other sides of it. Many other fires were lighted, as it grew dusk.

In front the battle had broken out again, as furiously as ever; and ere long wounded men began to come down again. They brought cheering news, however. The Prussians were still pressing forward, the cavalry had thrown the Austrian line into terrible confusion. No one knew exactly where any of the Prussian battalions had got to, but all agreed that things were going on well.

At five o'clock the roar gradually ceased, and soon all was quiet. The wounded now came in fast, but none could say whether the battle was won or lost; for the night was so dark that each could only speak of what had happened to his own corps.

Presently the number round the fires was swelled by the arrival of numerous Austrians, wounded and unwounded. Most of these laid their rifles by, saying:

"It is a bitter night, comrades. Will you let us have a share of the fire?"

"Come in, come in," the Prussians answered. "We are all friends for tonight, for we are all in equally bad plight. Can you tell us how matters have gone, up there?"

But these knew no more than the Prussians. They had got separated from their corps in the confusion and, losing their way altogether, had seen the glow of the fires in the forest, and had come down for warmth and shelter.

Presently Major Kaulbach rode up again.

"How have things gone, major?" Fergus asked eagerly.

"No one knows," he said. "The Austrians are broken up; and our battalions and theirs are so mixed that there is no saying where they are, or how matters will stand in the morning. The king has gone to Elsnig, two or three miles away."

"Is there no news of Ziethen?"

"None. They have just begun to fire heavily again in that direction, but what he has been doing all day, no one has any idea."

But little was said round the fires. A short distance away the surgeons were still at work with the more serious cases, while the soldiers roughly bandaged each other's wounds; but as, gradually, the distant firing increased in fury, and seemed to grow in distinctness, men who had lain down sat up to listen. There was no longer any talking, and a hush fell upon the forest.

"It is certainly coming closer, colonel," Karl said at last. "It seems that Ziethen has woke up in earnest. May the good God grant that he win his way up on to the heights!"

"If he does, we shall have the Austrians, in the morning. If he doesn't, we shall have a poor chance with them."

"I am afraid we sha'n't, colonel; but it certainly sounds as if Ziethen was making way."

At nine o'clock a cavalry officer came riding along. He drew rein at the fire.

"Can anyone tell me where I can find the king?"

"He is at Elsnig, captain," Karl said, rising and saluting. "May I ask what is the news, sir?"

"The news is good. Ziethen has gained the heights. We can see the flash of fire round the Siptitz hill."

A cheer broke from all the Prussians within hearing. There was not a man but knew that the fate of Prussia hung on the result of this battle, and for the moment wounds were forgotten. Men shook hands, with tears of joy streaming down their rugged cheeks; and as others came running up from the other fires, to know what was the news, and then hurried off again to tell their companions, the forest rang with their cheering.

All was not over yet. For a time the firing was louder and heavier than before, but towards ten o'clock news came that Ziethen was firmly established on the Siptitz hill, and that the Austrian battalions were drawing off. Then all lay down to sleep, rejoiced and thankful; and even the Austrians, disconcerted as they were, were not altogether sorry that they must now consider themselves prisoners; and free, for a long time to come, from further risk of battle.

The news, in the morning, that the Austrian army had already crossed the river and was in full retreat southwards, afforded the most intense satisfaction. There was now a hope of shelter and rest in Torgau, instead of the prospect of remaining in the forest, drenched to the skin by the rain that had come down, without intermission, for the last twenty-four hours.

An hour later Major Kaulbach again rode up, accompanied by four infantry men bearing a stretcher.

"The king has already gone on to Torgau, and he has given me orders to see that you are carried there, at once. There will be no more fighting, at present. Daun has got a long start, and there will be enough to do here, for the next twelve hours, in collecting the wounded. Lacy has retreated this side of the river, and Ziethen's cavalry started in pursuit, some hours ago."

Fergus was carefully lifted onto the litter, and carried down to Torgau; where several large houses had already been assigned for the use of wounded officers, while the soldiers were to be placed in the hospitals, public buildings, and churches, Austrians and Prussians being distributed indiscriminately; and by nightfall some twelve thousand wounded were housed in the town. A small body of troops was left there. The inhabitants undertook the charge of the wounded, and the next morning the king marched away south, with the army.

Soon after Fergus was brought in, Frederick paid a visit to the house where he had been carried, and said a few words to each of the wounded officers.

"So you are down again, Drummond. Fortune is not treating you so favourably as she used to do."

"It might have been a good deal worse, your majesty. I think that one who has got off with only the loss of his left arm has no reason to complain."

"No, it might have been worse," the king replied. "I have lost many good friends, and thousands of brave soldiers. However, I too must not complain; for it has saved Prussia.

"Don't hurry to rejoin too soon, Drummond. Another month, and we shall all be in winter quarters."



Chapter 21: Home.

Fergus remained at Torgau for six weeks. He had, two days after the battle, sent Karl off to carry a letter to Thirza; telling her that he had been wounded, but that she need have no uneasiness about him; the surgeon saying that the wound was going on well, and that, should it not break out bleeding in the course of another week, he would make a quick cure, and would be fit for service again, long before the spring.

Karl had not found his horse again, but had bought, for a trifle, an Austrian officer's horse that was found riderless; and had become the prize of a trooper, who was glad to part with it at a quarter of its value. He took with him the disguise of a countryman, to put on when he approached the ground held by the Austrians near Dresden; and, leaving his horse fifteen miles away, had no difficulty in making his way in on foot. Karl went round to the back of the house. The servants recognized him as soon as he entered.

"Will one of you ask the count to see me? Let him have the message quietly, when he is alone."

"Your master is not killed?" one of the women exclaimed, in consternation.

"Killed! No, Colonel Drummond is not so easily killed," he replied scornfully. "I have a letter from him in my pocket. But he has been somewhat hurt, and it were best that I saw the count first, and that he should himself give the letter to the Countess Thirza."

In two or three minutes the man returned, and led Karl to a room where the count was awaiting him, with a look of great anxiety on his face.

"All is well, your excellency," Karl said, in answer to the look. "At least, if not altogether well, not so bad as it might be. The colonel was hit at Torgau. A cannonball took off his left arm at the elbow. Fortunately, there were surgeons at work a quarter of a mile away, and he was in their hands within a very few minutes of being hit; so they made a job of his wound, at once. They had not taken the bandages off, when I came away; but as there had been no bleeding, and no great pain or fever, they think it is going on well. They tell him that he will be fit for service, save for his half-empty sleeve, in the spring.

"Here is a letter for the Countess Thirza. It is not written by his own hand, except as to the signature; for the surgeons insist that he must lie perfectly quiet, for any exertion might cause the wound to break out afresh. He is quite cheerful, and in good spirits, as he always is. He bade me give this note into your hands, so that you might prepare the young countess a little, before giving it to her."

"'Tis bad news, Karl, but it might have been much worse; and it will, indeed, be a relief to us all; for since we heard of that desperate fight at Torgau, and how great was the slaughter on both sides, we have been anxious, indeed; and must have remained so, for we should have had little chance of seeing the list of the Prussian killed and wounded.

"Now, do you go into the kitchen. They all know you there. Make yourself comfortable. I will give orders that you shall be well served."

He then proceeded to the room where Thirza and her mother wore sitting. The former was pale, and had evidently been crying.

"Some news has come," he said. "Not the very best, and yet by no means the worst. Drummond is wounded—a severe wound, but not, it is confidently believed, a dangerous one."

Thirza ran to her father and threw her arms round his neck, and burst into a passion of tears. He did not attempt to cheek them for some little time.

"Now, my dear," he said at last, "you must be brave, or you won't be worthy of this lover of yours. There is one bad point about it."

She looked up in his face anxiously, but his smile reassured her.

"You must prepare yourself for his being somewhat disfigured."

"Oh, that is nothing, father; nothing whatever to me! But how is he disfigured?"

"Well, my dear, he has lost his left arm, at the elbow."

Thirza gave a little cry of grief and pity.

"That is sad, father; but surely it is no disfigurement, any more than that sabre scar on his face. 'Tis an honour, to a brave soldier, to have lost a limb in battle. Still, I am glad that it is his left arm; though, had it been his right and both his legs, it would have made no difference in my love for him."

"Well, I am very glad, Thirza, that your love has not been tested so severely; as I confess that, for my part, I would much prefer having a son-in-law who was able to walk about, and who would not have to be carried to the altar. Here is a letter to you from him—that is to say, which has been written at his dictation, for of course the surgeons insist on his lying perfectly quiet, at present."

Thirza tore it open, and ran through its contents.

"It is just as you say, father. He makes very light of it, and writes as if it were a mere nothing."

She handed the letter to her mother, and then turned to the count.

"Is there anything we can do, father?"

"Nothing whatever. With such a wound as that, he will have to lie perfectly still for some time. You may be sure that, as one of Frederick's personal staff, he will have every attention possible; and were we all in the town, we could do nothing. As soon as he is fit to be moved, it will be different; but we shall have plenty of time to talk over matters before that.

"For some few months travelling will be dangerous. Frederick's army is in the neighbourhood again and, as Daun and Lacy are both in their intrenchments behind the Plauen, there is no chance of his again besieging Dresden; but his flying columns will be all over the country, as doubtless will the Croats, and the roads will be altogether unsafe for travelling. No doubt, as soon as he is able to be moved, he will be taken to Frederick's headquarters, wherever they may be established. The king will assuredly have the hospitals at Torgau cleared, as soon as he can; lest, when he has retired, the Austrians might make another dash at the town."

The next morning Karl set out again, bearing a letter from the count; and one from Thirza which was of a much less formal character than that which he had dictated to her, and which, as he told her afterwards, greatly assisted his cure. A month after the battle he was pronounced fit to travel, and with a large train of wagons filled with convalescents, and under a strong escort, he was taken to Leipzig; where the king had just established his headquarters, and to which all the wounded were to be sent, as soon as they could safely be moved. Here he was established in comfortable quarters, and Karl again carried a letter to Thirza.

Ten days later Count Eulenfurst entered his room.

"You here, count!" he exclaimed. "How kind of you! What a journey to make through the snow!"

"I have been dragged hither," the count said, with a smile.

"Dragged hither, count?"

"Yes. Thirza insisted on coming to see you. Her mother declared that she should accompany her, and of course there was nothing for me to do but to set out, also."

"Are they here, then, count?" Fergus exclaimed incredulously.

"Certainly they are, and established at the Black Eagle Hotel. I could not bring them here, to a house full of officers. You are well enough to walk to the hotel?"

"Yes, indeed. I walked a mile yesterday."

As Karl was helping Fergus into his uniform, he asked:

"How long were you in coming here, count?"

"We did it in a day. I sent on relays of horses, two days before; and as the carriage is of course on runners, and the snow in good order, we made quick work of it. Your man went on with the horses, and rode with us from the last place where we changed. I did most of the journey sitting by the coachman; which gave them more room inside, and was more pleasant for me, also."

In a few minutes they reached the hotel, and the count led Fergus to a door.

"You will find Thirza alone there. We thought that you had best see her so, at first."

Half an hour later, the count and countess entered the room.

"He looks very pale and thin, mother," Thirza said, after the countess had affectionately embraced Fergus.

"You would hardly have expected to find him fat and rosy," the count laughed. "A man does not lose his arm, and go about as if the matter was not worth thinking of, a few weeks afterwards. He is certainly looking better than I expected to find him.

"That empty sleeve is a sad disfigurement, though," he added slyly.

"How can you say so, father?" Thirza exclaimed indignantly. "I think quite the contrary, and I feel quite proud of him with it."

"Well, there is no accounting for taste, Thirza. If you are satisfied, I have no reason to be otherwise.

"And now, Drummond, we want to hear all about Liegnitz and Torgau; for we have only heard the Austrian accounts. Dresden illuminated over Daun's first despatch from Torgau, saying that the Prussian attacks had been repulsed with tremendous slaughter, and a complete victory gained. The next morning there came, I believe, another despatch, but it was not published; and it was not until we heard that Daun and Lacy were both within a few miles of the town that we knew that, somehow or other, there had been a mistake about the matter, a mistake that has not yet been cleared up, at Dresden."

"The defeat part of the business I can tell you from my personal observation, the victory only from what I heard. Certainly, when I came to my senses, after the surgeons had seen to my wounds, I had no thought of anything but a disastrous defeat. Never did the Prussians fight more bravely, or more hopelessly. They had to mount a steep ascent, with four hundred cannon playing upon them; and an army, more than three times their number, waiting at the top to receive them."

He then proceeded to tell them the whole story of the battle.

"Ziethen seems to have blundered terribly," the count said.

"I believe that that is the king's opinion, too; but Ziethen himself defends his action stoutly, and maintains that he could never have succeeded in a direct attack, in broad daylight. Anyhow, as the matter came out all right in the end, the king was too well satisfied to do no more than grumble at him.

"The other was a hard-fought battle, too."

"The news of that was a relief to us, indeed," the count said. "It seemed to everyone that Frederick was so completely caught in the toils that he could not hope to extricate himself. As you know, in this war I have, all along, held myself to be a neutral. I considered that the plot to overthrow Frederick and partition the kingdom was a scandalous one, and that the king disgraced himself and us by joining in it; but since that time, my sympathies have become more and more strongly with Frederick. It is impossible not to admire the manner in which he has defended himself. Moreover, the brutality with which the Confederates and Austrians, wherever their armies penetrated Saxony, treated the Protestants, made one regard him as the champion of Protestantism.

"He was wrong in forcing the Saxons to take service with him in his army, after their surrender at Pirna; and the taxes and exactions have, for the last three years, weighed heavily on Saxony, but I cannot blame him for that. It was needful that he should have money to carry on the war, and as Saxony had brought it on herself, I could not blame him that he bore heavily upon her.

"Then, too, Thirza has, for the last two or three years, become a perfect enthusiast for the Prussians. Whether it was the king's gracious manner to herself, or from some other cause, I cannot say; but she has certainly become an ultra-Prussian.

"And now lunch must be ready, and you look as if you wanted it, Drummond; and I am sure Thirza does. She was too excited to eat supper, when we got here last night; and as for her breakfast, it was altogether untouched."

"No doubt you think, Drummond," Count Eulenfurst said, when he called the next morning, "that you have done your duty fairly to Prussia."

"How do you mean, count?" Fergus replied, somewhat puzzled by the question.

"I mean that you have served five campaigns, you have been twice made a prisoner, you were wounded at Zorndorf, you nearly died of fever last winter, now you have lost your arm at Torgau; so I think that you have fully done your duty to the king under whom you took service, and could now retire with a thoroughly clear conscience.

"My own idea is that the war has quite spent its strength. France is practically bankrupt. Austria and Russia must be as tired of the war as Prussia, and this last defeat of their hopes cannot but discourage the two empresses greatly. I hear, from my friends in Vienna, that in the capital and all the large cities they are becoming absolutely disgusted with the war; and though it may go on for a while, I believe that its fury is spent.

"At any rate, I think you have earned a right to think of yourself, as well as others. You certainly have nothing to gain by staying longer in the service."

"I was thinking the same, last night, count. Certainly one man, more or less, will make no difference to Frederick; but I thought that, unless you spoke of it, I should let matters go on as they are, except that I thought of asking for three months' leave to go home."

"That you should go home for a few months is an excellent plan, Drummond; but I think it would be better that, when you were there, you should be able to stay five or six months, if so inclined. Go to the king, tell him frankly that you feel that you want rest and quiet for a time, that you have no longer any occasion in the pecuniary way for remaining in the army, and that you want to get married—all good reasons for resigning a commission. You see, we have now some sort of right to have a voice in the matter. You had a narrow escape at Torgau, and next time you might not be so fortunate; and, anxious as we are for Thirza's happiness, we do think it is high time that you retired from the service."

"That decides it, count. I myself have had quite enough of this terrible work. Were I a Prussian, I should owe my first duty to the country, and as long as the war continued should feel myself bound to set aside all private considerations to defend her to the last; but it is not so, and my first duty now is assuredly to Thirza, to you, and to the countess. Therefore I will, this morning, go to the king and ask him to allow me to resign my commission."

"Do so, Drummond. I thought of saying as much to you, last year; but the anxiety of those terrible three or four days after Torgau decided me. If I thought that your honour was concerned in remaining longer in the army, I should be the last to advise you to leave it, even for the sake of my daughter's happiness; but as it is not so, I have no hesitation in urging you to retire."

"'Tis a good time for me to leave, now. My cousin, the Earl Marischal Keith, returned here three days ago, and I will get him to go with me to the king."

"I shall say nothing to my wife and Thirza about it, till I see you again, Drummond. Of course the king cannot refuse, but I should like him to take it in good part; as indeed, I doubt not that he will."

"I have no doubt that he will, too, count. You may think it absurd, and perhaps vain of me; but indeed it is of the king that I am thinking, rather than of myself. During the past three years he has been good enough to treat me with singular kindness. He has had trouble and care which would have broken down most men, and I think that it has been some relief to him to put aside his cares and troubles, for an hour or two of an evening, and to talk to a young fellow like myself on all sorts of matters; just as he does to Sir John Mitchell, and my cousin, the Earl Marischal."

"I have no doubt of it, Drummond, and I quite understand your feeling in the matter. Still, we are selfish enough to think of our feelings, too."

As soon as the count left, Fergus put on his full uniform and went to the king's quarters. He first saw the Earl Marischal, and told him his errand.

"You are quite right," the old man said heartily. "You have done more than enough fighting, and there is no saying how long this war may drag on. I told you, when I first heard of your engagement to the young countess, that I was glad indeed that you were not always to remain a soldier of fortune; and I am sure that the king will consider that you have more than done your duty, by remaining in his service for a year, after having so splendid a prospect before you. Frederick is disengaged at present, and I will go over with you to him, and will myself open the matter."

Fergus had not seen the king since his arrival at Leipzig.

"I am truly glad to see you on your feet again," the latter said, as Fergus followed his cousin into the room. "I felt by no means sure that I should ever see you again, on that day after Torgau; but you still look very thin and pulled down. You want rest, lad. We all want rest, but it is not all of us that can get it."

"That is what he has come to speak to you about, your majesty," Keith said. "I told you, a year ago, that he was engaged to be married to the daughter of Count Eulenfurst."

The king nodded.

"I remember her, the bright little lady who received me, when I went to her father's house."

"The same, sire. He thinks that the warning he had at Torgau was sufficient; and that, having done his best in your majesty's cause, he has now earned a right to think of himself and her; and so he would beg your majesty to allow him to resign his commission, and to retire from the service."

"He has certainly well earned the right," the king said gravely. "He has done me right good and loyal service, even putting aside that business at Zorndorf; and not the least of those services has been that he has often cheered me, by his talk, when I sorely needed cheering. That empty sleeve of his, that scar won at Zorndorf, are all proofs how well he has done his duty; and his request, now that fortune has smiled upon him in other ways, is a fair and reasonable one.

"I hope, Colonel Drummond," he went on in a lighter tone, "that as you will be settled in Saxony—and this war cannot go on for ever—I shall someday see you and your bride at Berlin. None will be more welcome."

"He is going home to Scotland for a few months, in the first place," Keith said. "It is only right that he should visit his mother and people there, before he settles here. He will, like enough, be back again before the campaign opens in the spring."

Fergus, whose heart was very full, said a few words of thanks to the king for the kindness that he had always shown him, and for what he had now said; and assured him that he should not only come to Berlin, as soon as peace was made; but that, as long as the war lasted, he would pay his respects to him every year, when he was in winter quarters. He then withdrew, and made his way to the hotel.

"It is done," he said to the count as he entered. "I have resigned my commission, and the king has accepted it. He was most kind. I am glad that I have done it, and yet it was a very hard thing to do."

Thirza uttered an exclamation of joy.

"I am glad, indeed, Fergus, that you are not going to that terrible war again."

"I can understand your feelings, Drummond," the count said, putting his hand upon his shoulder. "I know that it must have been a wrench to you, but that will pass off in a short time. You have done your duty nobly, and have fairly earned a rest.

"Now, let us talk of other things. When do you think of starting for Scotland?"

"To that I must reply," Fergus said with a smile, "'How long are you thinking of stopping here?' Assuredly I shall not want to be going, as long as you are here. And in any case, I should like my mother to have a week's notice before I come home; and I think that, in another fortnight, my wound will be completely healed."

"I was thinking," the count said, "that you will want to take a nurse with you."

"Do you mean, count," Fergus exclaimed eagerly, "that Thirza could go with me? That would be happiness, indeed."

"I don't quite see why she should not, Drummond. There are churches here, and clergymen.

"What do you say, Thirza?"

"Oh, father," the girl said, with a greatly heightened colour, "I could never be ready so soon as that!

"Could I, mother?"

"I don't know, my dear. Your father was talking to me an hour ago about it, and that was what I said; but he answered that, although you might not be able to get a great many clothes made, there will be plenty of time to get your things from home; and that, in some respects, it would be much more convenient for you to be married here than at Dresden. Your marriage, with one who had so lately left the service of Prussia, would hardly be a popular one with the Austrians in Dresden. So that, altogether, the plan would be convenient. We can set the milliners to work at once and, in another fortnight, get your bridal dress ready, and such things as are absolutely necessary.

"Of course, if you would rather remain single for another three or four months, your father and I would not wish to press you unduly."

"It is not that, mother," she said shyly; "but it does seem so very quick."

"If a thing is good, the sooner it is done the better," the count said; and Thirza offered no further objection.

The next day an order appeared, that Colonel Fergus Drummond had been advanced another step in the order of the Black Eagle, following which came:

"Colonel Fergus Drummond, having lost an arm at the battle of Torgau, has resigned his commission; which has been accepted with great regret by the king, the services of Colonel Drummond having been, in the highest degree, meritorious and distinguished."

The king, having heard from the Earl Marischal that Fergus was to be married at Leipzig before leaving for Scotland, took great interest in the matter; and when the time came, was himself present in the cathedral, together with a brilliant gathering of generals and other officers of the army in the vicinity, and of many Saxon families of distinction who were acquainted with Count Eulenfurst. Fergus had obtained Karl's discharge from the army—the latter, who had long since served his full time, having begged most earnestly to remain in his service.

On the following day Fergus started with his wife for Scotland, drove to Magdeburg and, four days later, reached Hamburg; where they embarked on board a ship for Edinburgh, Karl of course accompanying them.

It was a day to be long remembered, in the glen, when Colonel Drummond and his Saxon wife came to take possession of his father's estates; where his mother had now been established for upwards of a year, in the old mansion. It was late when they arrived. A body of mounted men with torches met them, at the boundary of the estate; and accompanied them to the house, where all the tenants and clansmen were assembled. Great bonfires blazed, and scores of torches added to the picturesque effect. A party of pipers struck up an air of welcome as they drove forward, and a roar of cheering, and shouts of welcome greeted them.

"Welcome to your Scottish home!" Fergus said to his wife. "'Tis a poor place, in comparison with your father's, but nowhere in the world will you find truer hearts and a warmer greeting than here."

His mother was standing on the steps as he leapt out, and she embraced him with tears of joy; while after him she gave a warm and affectionate greeting to Thirza. Then Fergus turned to the clansmen, who stood thronging round the entrance, with waving torches and bonnets thrown wildly in the air; and said a few words of thanks for their welcome, and of the pleasure and pride he felt in coming again among them, as the head of the clan and master of his father's estates.

Then he presented Thirza to them as their mistress.

"She has brought me another home, across the sea," he said, "but she will soon come to love this, as well as her own; and though I shall be absent part of the time, she will come with me every summer to stay among you, and will regard you as her people, as well as mine."

Among the dependents ranged in the hall was Wulf, with whom Fergus shook hands warmly.

"I should never have got on as well as I have, Wulf," he said, "had it not been for your teaching, both in German and in arms. I commend to your special care my servant Karl, who speaks no English, and will feel strange here at first. He has been my companion all this time, has given me most faithful service, and has saved my life more than once. He has now left the army to follow me."

Fergus remained three months at home. Thirza was delighted with the country, and the affection shown by the people to Fergus; and studied diligently to learn the language, that she might be able to communicate personally with them, and above all with Mrs. Drummond, to whom she speedily became much attached.

At the end of April they returned to Saxony, and took up their abode on the estate the count had settled on them, at their marriage.

For two years longer the war continued, but with much diminished fury, and there was no great battle fought. The king planted himself in a camp, which he rendered impregnable, and there menacing the routes by which the Saxon and Russian armies brought their supplies from Bohemia, paralysed their movements; while General Platen made a raid into Poland, and destroyed a great portion of the Russian magazines in that direction, so that the campaign came to naught. Ferdinand, with the aid of his English, defeated Broglio and Soubise at Villingshausen; Soubise remaining inactive during the battle, as Broglio had done at Minden.

At the beginning of 1762 a happy event for the king took place. The Empress of Russia died; and Peter, a great admirer of Frederick, came to the throne. The Prussian king at once released all the Russian prisoners, and sent them back; and Peter returned the compliment by sending home the Prussian prisoners and, six weeks after his accession, issued a declaration that there ought to be peace with the King of Prussia, and that the czar was resolved that the war should be ended. He at once gave up East Prussia and other conquests, and recalled the Russian army. He not only did this, but he ordered his General Czernichef to march and join the king.

The news caused absolute dismay in Austria, and hastened the Swedes to conclude a peace with Frederick. They had throughout the war done little, but the peace set free the force that had been watching them; and which had regularly, every year, driven them back as fast as they endeavoured to invade Prussia on that side.

In July, however, the murder of Peter threw all into confusion again; but Catherine had no desire to renew the war, and it was evident that this was approaching its end. She therefore recalled her army, which had already joined that of the king. England and France, too, were negotiating terms of peace; and it was clear that Austria, single handed, could not hope to win back Silesia.

The king gained several small but important successes, and recaptured the important fortress of Schweidnitz. Then came long negotiations and, on the following February, a general peace was signed by all the Powers; Prussia retaining her frontiers, as at the beginning of the war.

From this time Fergus Drummond's life passed uneventfully. Every year he went to his old home with his wife, and as time went on brought his children to Scotland; and every winter he spent a fortnight at Berlin. When his second son reached the age of twelve, he sent him to school in England, and there prepared him to succeed to the Scottish estate. This he did not do for many years, entering the British army and winning the rank of colonel in the Peninsular war; and it was not until some years after the battle of Waterloo that, at the death of his father, he retired and settled down on the Scottish estates that were now his.

The rest of Colonel Drummond's family took their mother's nationality.

Fergus did not come in for the whole of the Eulenfurst estates, until thirty years after his marriage. He then took up his abode, with his wife, at the mansion where they had first met, near Dresden; and retaining a sufficient share of the estates to support his position, divided the remainder among his children, considering that the property was too large to be owned with advantage by any one person. His descendants are still large landowners in various parts of Saxony.

The king survived the signature of the peace for twenty-five years, during which he devoted himself to repairing the damage his country had suffered by the war; and by incessant care, and wise reforms, he succeeded in rendering Prussia far wealthier and more prosperous than it had been when he succeeded to the throne. Lindsay rose to the rank of general in the Prussian service, and his friendship with Fergus remained close and unbroken. The old Earl Marischal survived his younger brother for twenty years; and was, to the last, one of the king's dearest and most intimate friends.

THE END