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The inhabitants of the village had already assembled on the square, under the great linden, and as old Buschman now approached, supported by Anna Sophia's arm, they were joyfully greeted. Anna waved the paper like a white flag in the air, and, hastening the old man forward impatiently, she exclaimed, "Our king has won a battle!" Shouts of triumph were the result.
"Afterward you came back to our tent-fire, and Charles Henry Buschman told you fairy tales, nobody can do that so beautifully as Charles Henry, and you slept refreshingly throughout." "No, no, grenadier," said the king, "I did not sleep, and I can tell you to-day all that Charles Henry related." "Well, what was it?" said Fritz Kober, with great delight.
"Be silent," said he to Fritz, "and let me sew." But Fritz was not silent; he crouched near officer Buschman, and whispered many and strange things in his ear. Charles Henry sewed on zealously, blushed often, and replied in low, embarrassed words. At last the work was completed, and the knees of the great Frederick's breeches were worthily mended with divers patches.
"He will, if he has not yet done so," cried old Buschman. "Children, our king will conquer all his enemies; he is a hero, and has only brave fellows to fight for him. Just think of the thirty noble boys that our village alone gave him!" "Read, Anna, read!" cried the curious crowd. And Anna, ready to please them, walked under the linden, and stepped upon the wooden beach that surrounded the tree.
Buschman uttered a cry of joy, and would have embraced his son, but Charles Henry pushed him gently back, and his father read in his countenance a determination and energy that he had rarely seen there. "No, father," he said, "let me go let me be a soldier as my brothers were.
The old pastor was deeply moved, and laying his hand upon her head he wept. When she had bid him a long and loving adieu, and had wiped the tears from her eyes, she left the parsonage and hastened to the woods, where Father Buschman was tending his sheep. As soon as the old shepherd saw her, he beckoned to her his welcome.
"Yet, Buschman must cook the noodles; no one understands it so well as he. Charles Henry Buschman! Where hides the fellow? He is generally sticking to Fritz Kober, and they are chatting together as if they were lovers. Buschman! Charles Henry Buschman! Where are you?"
Can't Buschman prepare better noodles than your cleverest cook?" "Verily," said the king, smiling, "he never cooked such noodles for me, and I must say they are good, but, now I have had enough, and I am much obliged to you." He wished to return his plate to Fritz Kober, but Fritz shook his head violently.
The flock arrived at the village, and were driven by the dog into the sheep-pen, from which was heard the tremulous bleating of the lambs, who were rejoicing over their dams' arrival. Father Buschman waited impatiently until the last sheep had entered, and then hastened toward the large farm house to the left of the pen.
You said, 'You are both officers from this day, and if you ever need my assistance call upon me freely." "And you wish to do so now?" said the king. "Yes, your majesty, I have something to ask." "Well, what is it?" Fritz Kober drew up grandly and ceremoniously. "I ask your majesty to allow me to marry officer Charles Henry Buschman to marry him to-day!"
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