Marshal Keith had been sent, a week after Fergus was wounded, to assume the command of the western column, hitherto commanded by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick.
Fergus remained behind for ten days, at the end of which time he felt perfectly fit for service again.

He still carried his arm in a sling, but a generous diet and good wine had filled his veins again, and upon the day the king left he rode with Karl to rejoin the marshal.
He had been several times over to the chateau, and had on the last occasion seen the count; who, although still terribly weak, was now out of danger, and able to sit on a couch, propped up by pillows.
His thanks were as earnest as those of the countess had been and, having heard that Fergus was to start on the following morning to join the army on the frontier, he said to him: "There is no saying how far your king may carry his arms, nor where you may find yourself.

The countess will, therefore, write letters addressed to intimate friends at various large towns; telling them that you have placed us under a vast obligation, and praying them to do, for our sake, all in their power for you, under whatever circumstances you may arrive there.

She will write them on small pieces of paper, each with its name and address on the back, so that they will make a small and compact packet, not much bigger than an ordinary letter.
"I trust that when you return to Dresden, lieutenant, I shall be able, myself, to do my best to prove my gratitude for your services." After taking leave of the count, his wife, and daughter, Fergus rode back to the royal quarters.

As Karl took his horse, he said: "Herr lieutenant, I know not how we are going to manage." "In what way, Karl ?" "Two magnificent horses, complete with saddlery, holsters, and pistols, arrived here half an hour since.