"Then this despatch came direct from Berlin, and has been forwarded from
Cologne?"

"Yes, Excellency."

"How did it come from Berlin? By mail, or by special messenger?"

"By special messenger, Excellency."

Now General Berndorf was the officer in command of the garrison at Cologne,
and the Baron von Bulow, as I well knew, was His Majesty's Minister of War
at Berlin.

Having received these answers, my father stood silent, as if revolving some
difficult matter in his thoughts. Then, his mind being made up, he turned
again to the orderly and said:--

"Dine--feed your horse--and come back in an hour for the answer."

Thankful to be dismissed, the man saluted and vanished. My father had a
rapid, stern way of speaking to subordinates, that had in general the
effect of making them glad to get out of his presence as quickly as
possible.

Then he read the despatch for the third time; turned to his writing-table;
dropped into his chair; and prepared to write.

But the task, apparently, was not easy. Watching him from the fireside
corner where I was sitting on a low stool with an open story-book upon my
lap, I saw him begin and tear up three separate attempts. The fourth,