I'm going to bury a poor fellow who has fallen over there, whose fate has attracted my sympathy." Fritz pointed, as he spoke, to the wood where the dead man lay.
"With right good pleasure, Herr Lieutenant," said the other in a cheerful tone of voice, with great alacrity of manner, saluting again as before.

As a soldier, he knew his place too well to take a liberty with an officer, even if a newly-made one, and with his own permission! The German, or rather Prussian, system was and is very strict on such points.
"Oh, bother!" ejaculated Fritz again, between his teeth.

"The idea of helping to bury a man `with right good pleasure'!" He could not help smiling at the ludicrous association with so grave a subject, as he unconsciously mimicked the soldier's simple speech.
"Poor dear old fellow, though," thought he a moment afterwards, "he doesn't know what a funny phrase he used." In a minute or two the man returned with the required articles; when he and Fritz set off towards the wood, the latter leading the way, and Heinrich following close behind in single file.
On reaching the spot which he had marked, Fritz found that no one had apparently been there in his absence, for the dog was still on guard over his master's corpse, although he was now lying across the body, and had ceased his melancholy howl.

When he approached the animal wagged his bushy tail, as if in recognition of having seen Fritz before.
"Poor fellow!" said Fritz; "come here, old man! We're here to put your master in his last home, and you must not prevent us.

We will treat him very tenderly." The dog looked up in his face, as if he understood what his new friend said; and, crawling off from the officer's body, he came to Fritz and licked his hand, holding up the while one paw, which was bleeding as if from a cut.
"He is wounded," said Heinrich, stooping down.
"Yes," answered Fritz, examining the poor paw, much apparently to the dog's satisfaction.