not come to the cottage, and there was no way for the Lady Clarice to
hear from him, and she shuddered at the sound of the great guns. And
finally she fell sick. Nurse Heine did what she could for her, but the
lady grew worse. She felt that she should die, and it almost broke
Carl's heart to hear her moaning: "Oh! if I could but see him once
more!" He knew she meant the noble cavalier, but how should he get
word to him? The old forester was just then stiff with rheumatism, and
could scarcely move from his chair.

"I will go myself!" said Carl to himself one day, "or she will die
with grief!"

Without saying a word to anybody about the matter, for fear that he
would not be allowed to go, he stole out of the house in the gray of
the morning, while all were asleep, and, making his way to the open
road, he turned in the direction from whence, at times, had come the
sound of the cannon. As long as he was in the part of the road that he
knew, he kept up a stout heart, but when he left that he began to grow
frightened. The road was so lonely, and strange sounds seemed to come
out of the forest that stretched away, so black and thick, on each
side! He wondered if any fierce beasts were there, or if robbers were
lurking behind the rocks. But he thought of the beautiful lady, his
kind friend, sick and dying, and that thought was more powerful than
his fear. At noon he rested for awhile, and ate a few dry biscuits he
had put in his pockets.

It was near sunset when he saw that the trees stood less closely
together, the road looked more travel-worn, and there came with the
wind a confused and continuous noise. Then Carl was seized with
terror. "I am now near the camp," he thought. "Suppose a battle is