Anna Sophia returned to her solitary home in deep meditation, and
not even in the stillness of her room could she regain her
accustomed serenity and cheerfulness. Her thoughts were far away;
for the first time her room appeared to her gloomy and deserted. The
memories of the past did not now speak to her, and when she threw
herself upon her bed, it was without having bid her parents
goodnight.

But even then she could find no rest. Strange visions were wafted
before her waking eyes, wonderful dreams took hold of her senses.
She saw her victorious king standing before her, his sparkling eyes
beckoning her to follow him. Then she saw herself in the front of an
army, the fluttering banner in her hand, the glittering shield on
her breast, followed by many brave warriors, who were all gazing
proudly upon her. And again she saw herself. But now she was all
alone--alone by the side of an open grave, with a gaping wound in
her breast, raising her weary eyes upward and murmuring with pale
lips, "How sweet to die for one's country!" Then the brothers of her
betrothed raised themselves slowly from among the dead, and signed
to her to follow them. She seemed to hear them saying, "Revenge our
death, our brother is faint-hearted!"

At this thought, she raised herself upon her couch.

"He is a coward," murmured she. "I saw him turn pale and tremble,
and I felt as if a sword had entered my heart and destroyed all my
love for him. Yes, he is a coward, and instead of rejoicing at the
thought of a battle, he trembles."