Theodor Korner.

He had been quartered in Wobbelin, and shared his room with an Oberjager
von Behrenhorst, son of the postmaster-general in Dessau, who had taken
part in the battle of Jena as a young lieutenant and returned home with a
darkened spirit.

At the summons "To my People," he had enlisted at once as a private
soldier in the Lutzow corps, where he rose rapidly to the rank of
Oberjager. During the war he had often met Langethal and Middendorf;
but the quiet, reserved man, prematurely grave for his years, attached
himself so closely to Korner that he needed no other friend.

After the death of the poet on the 26th of August, 1813, he moved
silently about as though completely crushed. On the night which followed
the 27th he invited his room-mate Langethal to go with him to the body of
his friend. Both went first to the village church, where the dead Jagers
lay in two long black rows. A solemn stillness pervaded the little house
of God, which had become during this night the abode of death, and the
nocturnal visitors gazed silently at the pallid, rigid features of one
lifeless young form after another, but without finding him whom they
sought.

During this mute review of corpses it seemed to Langethal as if Death
were singing a deep, heartrending choral, and he longed to pray for these
young, crushed human blossoms; but his companion led the way into the
guard's little room. There lay the poet, "the radiance of an angel on
his face," though his body bore many traces of the fury of the battle.
Deeply moved, Langethal stood gazing down upon the form of the man who
had died for his native land, while Behrenhorst knelt on the floor beside