Major with emphasis.

Wallmoden shrugged his shoulders: "The word of a boy of seventeen!"

"Who has had a soldier's education and knows the significance of his
word of honor. That gives me no anxiety; my fears are in another
direction."

"Regine told me you and he understood one another at last," remarked
Wallmoden, with a glance at his friend's dark, gloomy face.

"For a few minutes; then I had to be the stern, hard father again, and
this last hour has shown me how hard a task it will be to conquer and
direct this unruly, undisciplined nature, but for all that, I must and
will subdue it."

His friend stepped to the window and looked out upon the garden.

"It is twilight already and the Burgsdorf fish-pond is half an hour's
walk from here," he said, half aloud. "You could have this last meeting
held in your presence if you saw fit."

"And see Zalika again? Impossible! I could and would not do that."

"If this farewell does not end as you anticipate--if Hartmut does not
come back?"

"Then he would be beneath contempt, a liar," said Falkenried, "a
deserter too, for he already carries arms at his side. But do not insult
me with such thoughts, Herbert. It is my son of whom you speak."