"
A cry of rage, and Maria Josephine fell fainting to the floor.
CHAPTER XII.
CAMP SCENE
It was a cold winter day, and in the Prussian camp at Newmark every
one was occupied making fires.
"Let us get a great deal of wood," said a sprightly-looking, slender
young soldier, to his comrades; "our limbs must not be stiff to-day.
I think to-morrow all will go off bravely, and we will prepare a
strong soup for the Austrians."
"And instead of the noodles, we will send them cannon-balls," said a
comrade, standing near him. "But see here, brother, as we are not
going to fight this evening, I think we should make use of the time
and cook a soup for ourselves. When we have wood enough for a good
fire, we will set the kettle over it, and the best of pastimes will
be ready. Shall we do it, comrades? Every man a groschen, and
Charles Henry Buschman to cook the noodles."
"Yet, Buschman must cook the noodles; no one understands it so well
as he. Charles Henry Buschman! Where hides the fellow? He is
generally sticking to Fritz Kober, and they are chatting together as
if they were lovers. Buschman! Charles Henry Buschman! Where are
you?"
"Here I am!" cried a bright, fresh voice, and a slender youth,
belonging to Prince Henry's regiment, stepped forward and joined
them.
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