"Well," he asked, in a hard, rough voice, "why do you weep? Did you
not hear that my sons died the death of heroes? Have they not fallen
for their country and their king? It would become us to weep if they
were cowards and fled in battle. But Anna Sophia told us they died
the death of heroes. Therefore, let us think of them with love and
pride. 'Blessed are the dead, for they see God!'"
He sank upon his knees and murmured low prayers for the repose of
the dead, and now he wept for the first time. At his side knelt his
son and Anna Sophia; and the crowd, overcome by emotion and
sympathy, followed their example, and with bended knees murmured the
pious prayers of the Church for the dead.
The solemn stillness was broken by the beating of drums and the
tramping of horses. A company of infantry, headed by the drummer and
fifer, marched up the street and approached the villagers, who,
rising from their knees, gazed anxiously at the troops.
"They are Prussians," said the mayor, who was amongst the crowd.
"They are Prussians," repeated the crowd, with brightening faces.
Headed by the mayor, they went forward to meet and conduct them to
the middle of the square, where they halted.
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