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In order to pass the time until Heppner should return, he was going to check the shoeing account in his register by the entries in the ordnance books. In his slow, neat handwriting he inscribed one careful entry after another, and became so absorbed by his task that he never even heard the tattoo.
"Put on the dag-chain!" roared Heppner. Vogt darted forward, quick as lightning, and slung the chain on the spokes of the wheel. It bore the strain for a moment, then there was a sharp metallic sound: the chain had snapped. The gun began to roll down the hill, faster and faster, dragging the six powerless horses behind it.
The knife slipped from her relaxing hand and clanged on the floor. The dying woman collapsed with a dull thud. The sleeping girl turned over lazily. "Be quiet, Otto!" she murmured. Suddenly she gave a shriek of horror, rushed into the bedroom, and shook the man, who could hardly be aroused from his sleep. He followed her, still half dazed. Julie Heppner lay dead, bathed in her own blood.
The girl's eyes rested with unfeigned admiration on Heppner's appearance; and when she finally turned towards her lover, a scornful smile played about her coarse mouth. But in an instant she changed it to a tender expression. To Heppner she said: "I am glad to have made the acquaintance of one of my future husband's comrades."
In a clear voice he called out to his opponent: "Listen to what I say, Heppner. In two minutes the clock down there will strike three times. At the first stroke we must lift our revolvers, before that they must be pointed to the ground. Between the first and the third strokes we may fire, but not after the third. Do you understand, and are you agreed?"
Outside his own quarters Heppner was a blameless non-commissioned officer; one who knew his duties as well as any, and was strictly obedient to rules and regulations. He handled the men smartly, his brutal, leonine voice being audible all over the parade-ground; yet he never permitted himself any undue licence of speech.
The brutality with which Heppner treated the dying woman was revolting to him, and his sympathy with the injured wife gradually inspired him with a positive hatred for the sergeant-major. The sergeant-major laughed at Heimert. "The Prince with the Nose" he called him, and sneered at his wife about this "lover." "You two would have suited each other well!" he jeered.
Heimert felt the sergeant-major looking at him, as he thought, with a sneering, incredulous sort of expression. He was embarrassed, and began describing figures on the table with a little beer that had been spilt. "Well, well," he began at last, "women are always like that. She draws the long bow, of course as to her origin and so forth." "Yes," answered Heppner; "girls love doing that."
At first it was difficult to recognise them in the thick dust; but Sergeant-major Heppner announced that he saw the colonel's big sorrel horse. It was in fact the colonel and his adjutant. Güntz galloped up to them and gave his report. Falkenhein thanked him. "I only wanted to watch you for a little," he said simply.
But you must feel for me, and understand how hard it will be for me to do with-out you. If I only knew who could take your place!" The sergeant-major shrugged his shoulders. "Well, speak out; you know the men better even than I do." Schumann hesitated a little, and then said: "You know yourself, sir; Heppner is the next in seniority." "Of course," said Wegstetten rather testily, "I know that.
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