Findeisen walked with bowed head. They had put his cap on right over his forehead, so that he could hardly see from under it. Wolf looked straight ahead, but walked as if in a fog. He saw nothing of what was pa.s.sing before him, and stumbled as he stepped across a gutter.
The corporal on guard was going to unlock two contiguous cells for the prisoners, but one of the men in charge of them objected.
"They might communicate with each other by knocking or somehow," he said. "Better lock them up as far apart as possible."
So Wolf was put into the cell nearest to the road, and Findeisen into one at the other end of the corridor.
The corporal placed the reservist"s uniform on a stool, and near by the pair of boots which had caused the dispute, still bearing traces of dust.
"Change your clothes quickly," he said. "I must take back your plain clothes with me at once."
But Wolf stood there motionless.
He heard the key turn in the lock without realising what was happening.
Then the steps retreated from his door, once more the great bunch of keys jingled, another door was opened, creaked unwillingly on its hinges, and was slammed to and locked.
The voices of the non-commissioned officers resounded in the stone-paved corridor as they returned to the guard-room.
"What have the fellows done?" asked the soldier on guard.
The answer was almost lost behind a corner of the pa.s.sage: "Murder--Sergeant Keyser."
The reservist still stood motionless beside the stool. He was trying in vain to think why he was here. What was he doing here, when it was to-day that he was at last released from the hated discipline? He pa.s.sed his hand over his eyes, as if to remove something that was covering them, and mechanically he pressed down the latch of the door.
It was indeed true; he was locked in.
Again the key sounded in the lock, and the corporal on guard entered.
Behind him a gunner brought a jug of water into the cell, set it down, and at once retired.
"Why haven"t you changed yet?" asked the corporal.
The reservist stared at him blankly, without comprehension.
"d.a.m.nation!" thundered his superior. "Change your clothes this moment, do you hear?"
And Wolf sat down obediently on the stool. Automatically he took off his coat and trousers, undid his collar, and pulled off his shoes. Then he took off his hat also; and in the same mechanical way dressed himself again in uniform.
The corporal had bidden him a couple of times to make haste, and now he threw the civilian clothes over his arm.
"Everything must be taken away from you," he said as he went.
Wolf nodded, and dully looked on. Once he moved as though to seize at something--the corporal"s fingers were not clean, and were dirtying his white collar; he might at least hold it by the edge--but the outstretched hand sank back languidly.
Such behaviour made the corporal look serious. When in the guard-room he handed over the clothes to the non-commissioned officer who had brought in the prisoners, he pointed with his thumb back over his shoulder, and said: "That fellow there"s not quite right in his head."
"Do you think not?" asked the other.
"Yes, I do. So I took away his braces, and now at least he can"t hang himself."
Wolf had involuntarily stood at attention as the corporal left the cell, and when the door closed he put forward his right foot and relaxed his position just as if the order "Stand at ease" had been given.
He looked down at his worn uniform, the green cloth of which was grey and threadbare, while the madder-red facings had faded to a dirty pink.
The well-polished b.u.t.tons shone, and a darker patch in a corner of the tunic showed up clearly against the shabby material.
By that patch he recognised the coat which he had worn for two endless years, and which he still wore; and all at once he understood his fate.
Under the horror of the revelation he broke down. He sank helplessly on the stool, and hid his face in his hands.
He was still incapable of ordered thought. Only one thing could he grasp, that his dream of freedom lay shattered and destroyed before him. This single, fearful, desperate certainty so entirely filled his mind, that his capacity for other thought seemed paralysed. His senses received external impressions, but did not transmit them to the brain.
Wolf"s cell was situated in the outermost corner of the guard-house. At a distance of about ten paces the high-road ran past the brick wall, which was none too thick. Besides this, a small pane of the window was open; so that the crunching of the wheels as they turned on the freshly-laid metalling, the encouragements of the drivers to their horses, and the cracking of the whips, could be distinctly heard. Even the steps of the pa.s.sers-by were audible, and a word here and there of their conversation.
Wolf still sat upon the stool. All these noises reached his ear, but he paid no heed to them.
Suddenly he raised his head.
An indistinct sound of distant singing came in s.n.a.t.c.hes through the little window, borne by gusts of wind. Nearer and nearer it approached.
Now the singers seemed to be turning a corner, their measured tread became audible, and their hearty voices rang out:
"Reservists they may rest, Reservists may rest, And if reservists rest may have, Then may reservists rest."
The song of the reservists who were leaving the barracks and marching to the station.
From time to time the rough joke of some pa.s.sing wit interrupted the song. Then the reservists would break out into a loud laugh and call back some still more spicy retort. But they always took up their jingling refrain, repeating the childish words again and again, and jogging along clumsily, keeping time to the song.
Wolf heard the harsh sounds gradually retreating, till finally they died away in the direction of the town.
Once more he buried his face in his hands.
When at last he sat up again, he had conquered himself. He had determined to wage war against fate.
Upright and with firm steps he paced up and down his cell. He thought over everything that could serve for his defence: how he had held himself in check, so as not in any way to prolong by his own fault his time of service; how he had even looked on quietly when Findeisen obeyed the sergeant"s humiliating order; but how Keyser"s provocative look had made his blood boil and had driven him to his unlucky deed. He had, it is true, raised his hand against a superior; but the sight of the gunner licking the dust off the boots had seemed to him an insult to humanity itself.
The judges would not be able to disregard this, and at least they would judge his offence leniently. Even if their outlook on life were diametrically opposed to his own, surely in p.r.o.nouncing their verdict on him that could not prevent their taking into consideration the purity of his motives.
And he thought out a speech of defence which must penetrate the hearts of the judges, a speech full of eloquent, inspiring words about that dignity of man which none should wound with impunity, and about that justifiable wrath which is not only excusable, but even praiseworthy.
He intoxicated himself with his thoughts. Hope dazzled him, and already he saw himself acquitted. He piled up argument after argument, and planned artistically-turned periods and effective ant.i.theses, concluding his apology with a sublime appeal to the sense of justice of his judges.
The hours pa.s.sed. He paced incessantly up and down the narrow cell, with a glowing face and sparkling eyes. The bowl of food which had been brought in for his dinner stood untouched. What had he to do with food and drink? He was contending for something higher--for his freedom.
In the afternoon he was taken before the officer who was to conduct the inquiry, who had been summoned by telegraph from the divisional head-quarters.
The proceedings took place in barrack-room VII. of the sixth battery, the scene of the fatal incident. At the table sat the presiding officer, a stout man, whose head rose red and swollen above his tight collar. He had a couple of sheets of paper before him, and while interrogating constantly fidgeted with a pencil. A clerk waited with pen to paper.
The hearing began.
Findeisen, when questioned, maintained a stubborn silence. The examining officer tried by reasoning and by scolding to get something out of him; the gunner remained dumb. He kept his eyes on the ground, from time to time glancing furtively at the door. But two non-commissioned officers were posted on the threshold.