CHAPTER NINE.
A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING! "Do you know what is going on to-day ?" said Madaleine Vogelstein to her patient, a couple of days after she had aided him to scrawl that postscript to her letter to his mother in his own handwriting, when he had so far recovered that he might be said to be almost convalescent.
"No, what--anything important ?" he replied, answering her question in questionable fashion by asking another.
"Guess," said she teasingly, holding up her finger.

"I'm sure I can't." "The capitulation of Metz!" she said slowly with some emphasis, marking the importance of the news she was telling.
"Never--it can't be!" ejaculated Fritz, making an effort to spring up in the pallet bed on which he was still lying, but falling back with a groan on finding himself too weak.

"What an unlucky beggar I am!" "Lie still," said she, putting her hand gently on his, which was outside the quilt.

"You must keep quiet, or you'll never get better, so as to be able to stand up and walk about again--no, you won't, if you try to hurry matters now." "That's more than the French have done if they've only just given in! Is it true, though?
Perhaps you've only heard a rumour, for there are always such false reports flying about.

Why, in the camp it used to be the current cry every morning, after we began the siege, that Metz had fallen." "It is true enough now, I can tell you," said Madaleine.