_Mother:_

Ah, but they'll be calling him next. It is his birthday to-day, too,
poor lad. He's on the jump to be off. I see him gone, too. God knows I
may never see one of them again. I sit here in the long evenings and
think how death may take my boys,--even this minute they may be
breathing their last,--and then I knit this baby sock and think of the
precious little life that's coming. It's my one comfort, Amelia. Nothing
must happen now.


_Amelia:_ [_With a touch of impatience._]

What's the matter with Hedwig?


_Mother:_

I don't know what it is. She acts as if she didn't want to bring her
child into the world. She talks wild. I tell you I must have that child,
Amelia! I cannot live else. Hedwig frightens me. The other night I found
her sitting on the edge of her bed staring,--when she should have been
asleep,--as if she saw visions, and whispering, "I will send a message
to the emperor." What message? I had to shake her out of it. She refuses
to make a thing for her baby. Says, "Wait till I see what they do to
Franz." It's unnatural.