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 this very Werl committed to the grave.

“Aye, aye, it’s strange enough, I allow: but there are not many such surgeons as he is that belongs to our regiment: he had me dug up, and brought me round again, I’ll assure you. One would think the man was a conjurer. Indeed there are many things he can do which I defy any man to explain; and to say the truth, I’m convinced he can execute impossibilities.”

“Well, so let him, for aught that I care: all his art will scarcely do me any good.”

“Who knows, brother? who knows? The man is in this town at this very time; and for old friendship’s sake I’ve just spoken to him about you: and he has promised me a lucky throw of the dice that shall deliver you from all danger.”

“Ah!” said the dejected Rudolph, “but even this would be of little service to me.”

“Why, how so?” asked the other.

“How so? Why, because—even if there were such dice (a matter I very much dispute)—yet I could never allow myself to turn aside, by black arts, any bad luck designed for myself upon the heads of either of my comrades.”

“Now this, I suppose, is what you call being noble? But excuse me if I think that in such cases one’s first duty is to oneself.”

“Aye, but just consider; one of my comrades has an old father to maintain, the other a sick wife with two children.”

“Schroll, Schroll, if your young bride were to hear you, I fancy she wouldn’t think herself much flattered. Does poor Charlotte deserve that you should not bestow a thought on her and her fate? A dear young creature, that places her whole happiness in you, has nearer claims (I think) upon your consideration than an old dotard with one foot in the grave, or a wife and two children that are nothing at all to you. Ah! what a deal of good might you do in the course of a long life with your Charlotte!So then, you really are determined to reject the course which I point out to you? Take care, Schroll! If you disdain my offer, and the lot should chance to fall upon you,—take care lest the thought of a young bride whom you have betrayed, take care, I say, lest this thought should add to the bitterness of death when you come to kneel down on the sand-hill. However, I’ve given you advice sufficient: and have discharged my conscience. Look to it yourself: and farewell!”

“Stay, brother, a word or two;” said Rudolph, who was powerfully impressed by the last speech, and the picture of domestic happiness held up before him, which he had often dallied with in thought both when alone and in company with Charlotte;—“stay a moment. Undoubtedly, I do not deny that I wish for life, if I could receive it a gift from heaven: and that is not impossible. Only I would not willingly have the guilt upon my conscience of being the cause of misery to another. However, if the man you speak of can tell, I should be glad that you would ask him upon which of us three the lot of death will fall. Or—stay; don’t ask him,” said Rudolph, sighing deeply.

“I have already asked him,” was the answer.

“Ah! have you so? And it is after his reply that you come to me with this counsel?”

The foretaste of death overspread the blooming face of Rudolph with a livid paleness: thick drops of sweat gathered upon his forehead; and the other exclaimed with a sneer—“I’m going: you take too much time for consideration. May be you will see and recognize me at the place of execution: and, if so, I shall have the dice with me; and it will not be too late even then to give me a sign: but take notice I can’t promise to attend.”

Rudolph raised his forehead from the palm of his hand, in which he had buried it during the last moments of his perturbation, and would have spoken something in reply: but his counsellor was already gone. He felt glad and yet at the same time sorry. The more he considered the man and his appearance, so much the less seemed his resemblance to his friend whom he had left buried on the field of battle. This friend had been the very soul of affectionate cordiality—a temper that was altogether wanting to his present counsellor. No! the scornful and insulting