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The more the officers talked over the matter the more enraged and angry they became, and the wine which on such occasions was freely passed round, increased their excitement.

"We must send a deputation to the colonel and inform him that we decline to remain any longer in the same corps with Winkler. Either he or we!" cried out a hoarse voice.

But the sensible ones among them counselled discretion; things were not so bad as that. Everybody knew that His Majesty protected him, and if he heard what was the feeling about Winkler, and how they had determined not to remain in the same regiment with him, His Majesty would be seriously angry, especially as recently His Majesty had not been so well disposed towards the regiment as in former days. They must first of all let the grass grow on Willberg's grave; after that they could deal with George. For the present there was nothing further to be done than to show him still more clearly than ever that he was not welcome among the officers; perhaps he himself would see about getting his exchange, and if he, a bourgeois, was not delicate-minded enough to see this, it would have to be conveyed to him by some means.

George soon noticed the feeling that existed towards him; they all treated him with icy politeness, only spoke to him when it was absolutely unavoidable, and answered his questions as shortly as possible.

For a fortnight George endured this treatment, then he went to the adjutant of the regiment, the only one who during the whole time had treated him as a friend and a comrade.

"I knew that you would come to me," said the count. "I have done all in my power to remove the ill-feeling which exists against you among the officers. I have spoken on your behalf, and have warned them not to drive you to extremes, but, unfortunately, without success. There is no need to tell you that most of them blame you for your behaviour in the Willberg affair; they knew that he asked you for money, and they blame you for not having given it him. They think that if you had done so, Willberg would not have taken his life. Whether your money would really have saved him – his gambling debts were paid it must be remembered – or whether there were other things that forced him to take his life, only Willberg himself could say, and his mouth is closed for ever. I have endeavoured to make this clear to the officers, but in this likewise I have been unsuccessful. Besides, they appear to have all sorts of other things against you."

George sat opposite the adjutant pale as death. "So that's it. I always thought so, but I did not expect quite such heavy charges. What can I do?"

"I have already spoken to the colonel. The best thing would be for you to demand an official inquiry before the Court of Honour for yourself, but there is – I was almost going to say 'alas!' – not the slightest ground for this. Perhaps the feeling against you would alter if you could inform the colonel and myself what you heard at the last moment about Willberg, what prevented you from helping him, and what ground you had for bringing such heavy charges against him. Cannot you tell me? If you like I will preserve absolute silence, though of course it would be best if everyone knew about it."

"I had permission to inform you of what I learnt on that day whenever I considered it absolutely necessary. I believe that now, for my own sake, I ought no longer to remain silent." And then he related what Olga had confided to him.

The adjutant listened with great attention, and when George had finished he sat silent for a long time.

"May I ask your opinion on the matter, sir?"

The count continued silent, then he jumped up suddenly. "Ach, how beastly!" He shook his head with disgust, and once more repeated "How beastly!"

George had been conscious from the beginning of having acted rightly, but now he breathed more freely and said, "Then you can understand why I did not give him the money?"

The count turned to him quickly. "Understand? Why, it was a matter of course that yon – " he tried to find a name for Willberg – "what I mean is, you could not, of course, help him under the circumstances, and everyone will be of the same opinion. I sympathise with you and the young lady; it would be extremely painful for you if the story were known, but there would be no need to give any name."

"I am not sure that I have the right to ask you to inform the colonel of what I have just told you, but I will be responsible for that. Perhaps he will speak to the officers and tell them that he knows everything and approves of my conduct. Perhaps that will have the desired result."

"It must; I will ask the colonel to talk seriously to the officers, and if they will not listen to reason of their own free will they must be forced to hear it."

"Thank you, sir."

The adjutant turned to go and shook hands with George. It was the first time that the count had offered him his hand, the first friendliness that he had received for a long time, the first time that anyone had spoken to him warmly and heartily and sympathised with him. It did not alter things, of course, but in spite of that George felt happier and gayer than he had been for a long time, and the feeling of having acted rightly in the matter gave great satisfaction.

Olga scarcely recognised him when she came in that evening; she had visited him almost daily lately, for George sat at home evening after evening and thought and meditated on what would happen. He had accepted no invitations, gone nowhere; he had lived in himself, and spent much time in writing long letters to his parents, in which he lamented his misfortunes. It was a necessity of his nature to express his feelings to the people who cared for him, but regularly as the letters were written Olga threw them into the fire. "Your parents cannot help or advise you," she had answered him on the first occasion when she destroyed his letter, and he saw that she was quite right.

To-day when she came she asked if he had finished his letter, and she could hardly believe it when he said he had not written one at all.

"Whatever has happened then?"

He told her of the conversation he had had with the adjutant, and asked her at the end: "Do you think people ought to know how Willberg treated you?"

Olga sat thinking for a long time, then she said: "I care for you very much, I would gladly give you permission to speak openly, but it would not be wise, especially on your account. What do our relations with one another matter to the world? Nobody expects a young lieutenant to be a saint, but he need not publish to the whole world the fact that he has a 'friend,' and certainly no one need know what her name is and what has happened to her. There would be people who would blame you, and why should you expose yourself to that?"

He kissed her on the forehead. "You are right, as you always are."

He could not tell how it was, but suddenly he wondered how Hildegarde would receive such news. He had not seen her since his return, but daily his thoughts had wandered to her, and now he saw her picture clearly before him.

"George, what are you thinking about so seriously?"

He roused himself from his thoughts and found Olga standing in front of him and laughing.

"You have forgotten all about me, haven't you? For at least a minute you have been staring straight in front of you. What were you thinking of?"

He did not answer her question. "Don't be angry," he begged, "my thoughts were far away."

"In beautiful Paris?"

He could not help laughing. "Not exactly, but now they have returned to you once more," and he tenderly drew her to him.

CHAPTER IX
The Humiliation of the "Golden Butterflies"

An officers' meeting had been summoned, which all the officers of the regiment had been commanded to attend, with the single exception of Lieutenant Winkler, and the colonel's behaviour to his lieutenants had been by no means gentle. In his present excited state of mind, and with the fear of possible dismissal after all, he was going to take good care that there should be no further scandals among his officers, and one would certainly be unavoidable if their behaviour to Lieutenant Winkler was not altered. He therefore explained to them the Willberg affairs as far as he was justified in doing so, and assured them that George had behaved splendidly – indeed, many of them might take an example from him. At first the colonel had thought of sending a deputation of three lieutenants to George to convey to him the expression of his comrades' confidence and to apologise for their unjust suspicions. He had discussed at length with his adjutant as to whether George was not entitled to some substantial compensation, but the latter had not taken his view. To make too much of the affair was to do more harm than good. If the colonel insisted upon an official apology great indignation would be once more aroused; the officers' rage would burst forth anew, and they would consider compensation as a still further humiliation, for George was only a bourgeois, and it is always very disagreeable for an aristocrat to say to such a one, "I did you an injustice." After much discussion the colonel agreed to this view, and so he only delivered a thundering philippic, ending with the words: "I have commanded Count Wettborn to inform me daily concerning your behaviour to Lieutenant Winkler; if a single complaint reaches me, if I hear that in the future any one of you behaves in such a way as is not permissible under any circumstances, I shall cause the officer concerned to be sent to a frontier garrison within three days. I swear to this."

This had its effect; at least, inasmuch as in future the officers did not dare to oppose Lieutenant Winkler openly nor to make hostile speeches and remarks against him. Their feeling was not altered, and they did not become more friendly because of the colonel's discourse, but they kept their thoughts to themselves, and behaved towards him in a more polite fashion, if, perhaps, a not more friendly one. It was still very little, indeed, that George was offered in the way of friendship, but it was yet considerably more than he had lately dared to hope. The present behaviour of his fellow-officers filled him with a certain satisfaction, and being a generous-minded man, he was almost sorry that they had had to endure such harsh words on his account; but in his bearing and in his intercourse with them he betrayed neither the one feeling nor the other. He was polite and amiable, but at the same time independent and self-reliant, as he had been from the beginning. He behaved, indeed, as if he had no idea of what had happened at the officers' meeting, and officially he did not know, for Count Wettborn had not thought it advisable to inform him directly what had been said regarding him to the others; that would have been too great a humiliation of the aristocracy in the eyes of the middle class. The fact that George feigned ignorance so cleverly, that not by a single word did he allude to their former suspicions of him, that he bore no grudge against anyone, and that though he had received ample satisfaction in consequence of the colonel's severe reprimand, he still remained modest and unassuming in his manners and did not play the part of innocence justified, made a certain impression on the better sort of men among the officers.

Although George betrayed nothing of all this, he noticed that very slowly there was a slight change of feeling towards him. He only told Olga of this, and in his letters home he merely said that very soon he would be quite happy in the regiment. It was, indeed, high time, for he had been more than a year among the "Golden Butterflies." George felt now quite a different being. His cheerful disposition once more showed itself, and his happy nature drove away all the sad thoughts which had lately so filled his mind.

He enjoyed his official duties much more than formerly, and just then several things happened that made them pleasanter than usual. His captain had gone away for a few days, his first lieutenant was on furlough, and as it was a very quiet time in the regiment, George was given the command of his company.

To-day the company had been shooting, and now it was musketry inspection. George had at first entrusted this to the sergeant-major alone, but at the last moment he thought it was his duty to make a personal inspection. He came quite unexpectedly. The men were drawn up in the corridor, and as George mounted the steps he heard from above such a shower of curses that he hurried on. The cry, "The lieutenant is coming!" produced absolute silence in a moment, and the sergeant-major hastened towards him to salute him.

"But, sergeant, whatever is the matter? You know how our captain insists upon a good tone in the company, and I should not like there to be any difference in his absence. What has happened?"

"Nothing, sir. The lieutenant knows how everything sounds in the corridor if one speaks a little louder than usual, and one has to do that to make one's self understood. Perhaps it was I was a little angry with a man whose gun was badly cleaned."

"Don't get angry with him, but make a note of it and inspect the gun again."

"Certainly, sir. I will attend to your commands."

George was standing on one side with the sergeant-major, and now he dismissed him. "Go on with your inspection."

The sergeant-major went back to his place, and George walked slowly along the line, examining the men's uniforms. Suddenly he stopped in front of a soldier.

"Petersen, what have you done to yourself?"

The man had a swollen and inflamed eye and a great boil on his forehead which prevented him from wearing his cap properly.

"You look horrible. What has happened to you?" inquired George once more.

"I fell down."

"Where?"

"On the steps."

"That's what I am always saying. You lazy fellows don't even know how to walk, and yet you imagine you are fit for a parade march."

George tried to make a joke of the affair, and, as a rule, he found that his men liked this mode of treatment; but to-day his words called forth no response. Petersen did not laugh, and the men standing by were evidently not amused by it. It struck George as a little odd, but still he thought no more of it, and turned to go, when by chance his glance fell upon Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew, who was standing a little way from him by the window, and who was looking at Petersen with such a threatening and fiery glance that involuntarily George was frightened for a moment.

Then suddenly he grasped the real meaning of the affair. His instinct, which had made him dislike von Nissew from the very beginning, was not wrong then. What he had just seen made him determine to sift the matter to the bottom, so he now went back to the soldier and subjected him to a cross-examination. When did he fall? Who were there when it happened? Had he been to the ward-room and had his wounds dressed by the nurse? Who was in the room when he returned? But he could get nothing out of the man; he had fallen down, nobody had seen it, and he had told none, because he had not wanted to make himself ridiculous on account of his clumsiness.

"What do you know about the matter, Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew?" said George, turning suddenly to him. "You are responsible for these men. Why did you not send this man to the ward-room? The wound looks frightful."

The non-commissioned officer continued staring at the soldier with threatening eyes. "I know nothing about it, sir. I only discovered the injury just before the inspection, and then it was too late to send him to the nurse."

George knew perfectly well that von Nissew was not speaking the truth, but he did not want to convict him of lying before the assembled men, on the ground of discipline and subordination.

"Show me the place on the steps where you fell down."

A clever liar would have shown George some place or other and said, "Here, sir." But the soldier was so little accustomed to hypocrisy and concealment that he did not know whether to go to the right or to the left, and George once more took him to task. "I want to say something to you, Petersen; you know me, and you know that I try to act fairly towards you all, and shut my eyes whenever I can, but if you stand here and lie to me and make a fool of me, I shall get very angry indeed, and I can assure you you won't appreciate that side of me. Well, now out with it. I pledge you my word you shan't suffer for it. Where did you fall down?"

A struggle was going on in Petersen's mind. At last he said: "I did not fall down at all."

"But – what happened then?"

"Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew struck me on the head with a frying-pan."

George was enraged beyond measure, although from the first he had not for a moment doubted that something of the kind had happened; still, he did not want to betray his feelings towards his subordinate, so he only said: "So that's it. Well, that will do. Now go back into line."

But the private stood still in a stiff attitude before his lieutenant and did not move. "Do you want to say anything else?" asked George. "You know, Petersen, you cannot lodge a complaint against von Nissew to-day. You must not do that till to-morrow, or you yourself will be liable to punishment."

"Sir, if you will allow me, I do not want to make any complaint."

"What do you want, then?"

The soldier, a tall, strong, fine-looking man, trembled in every limb.

"Now, out with it. You can trust me. What is it?"

"Might I venture to ask you most humbly not to tell the non-commissioned officer that I have informed you of the truth in his matter, for then he would thrash me again and make my comrades belabour me with their heavy whips."

George involuntarily took a step back. "What do you mean? You only imagine that. Now, can you believe one of your superiors capable of such a thing?" He was speaking against his own conviction, but for the sake of discipline he was obliged to support those in authority; an opportunity for discovering the whole truth would come later.

Petersen was still trembling. "We know the non-commissioned officer well enough. Last week Meier intended to lodge a complaint because he knocked out two of his teeth, but he heard this and then he struck him with his riding-whip till the blood ran, and we had to hit him also."

"But how could you do such a thing?"

"The non-commissioned officer threatened us that he would take care that we had no leave of absence on Sunday, and he taunted us till we got mad with anger, and we drove Meier round the place till he couldn't move."

"Well, and what then?" asked George, who could scarcely restrain himself for indignation.

"Then the non-commissioned officer took out an old Bible and made Meier swear on it that he would not make a complaint, and then he told Meier that if he did he would be committing perjury, and perjury was punishable by imprisonment."

George was terribly angry at what he had heard, but, in spite of this, he said, apparently quite calmly, "Very well, that will do now, fall into rank."

But again Petersen did not move, and asked, in an almost tearful tone: "Sir, will you really say nothing of this to the non-commissioned officer?"

"I cannot promise that, but I pledge you my word that von Nissew shall not ill-treat you to-night. He will do nothing more to you. Are you satisfied with that?"

Petersen shook his head. "Then the other non-commissioned officers will, they are all in the same box; they are not all so cruel, but they all strike us."

George pretended not to hear the last words. "You may rest content, nothing shall happen to you to-night. I myself shall be in barracks the whole night and will see to things. It is to be hoped you are satisfied now."

"Yes, sir."

Petersen fell into the rank, and George was about to return to the company when he noticed von Nissew standing a little distance off; apparently he was waiting to speak to him, and scarcely was George alone when the non-commissioned officer stepped up to him hastily.

"What do you want of me?" asked George curtly.

Nissew tried in vain to conceal his anxiety and disquietude, and his restless eyes were more unsteady than usual.

"What do you want?" asked George again.

The non-commissioned officer unsuccessfully sought to control his voice, it trembled noticeably as he said, "I wanted to ask you most respectfully – I can imagine what Petersen has just said to you – and I wanted to ask if you would be so good as not to believe a word he says; he is the greatest liar and slanderer in the whole company. Our captain knows that, and gave me orders to give special attention to Petersen, who is secretly a social democrat. His comrades know that. You can ask the whole company, and all the corporals, and they will tell you the same thing. Petersen is lying."

George's face expressed boundless contempt, for every word of Petersen's showed that he spoke the absolute truth. Whilst George had been talking to him Nissew had certainly been working upon his men and threatening them with fresh ill-treatment if they did not represent that Petersen was a liar. A feeling of inexpressible repugnance and the greatest horror came over George; he despised him for having ill-treated a defenceless subordinate, but even more for seeking to deny his guilt in this manner. He turned to him and said, "Not only a brute, but a coward? Ugh!"

The non-commissioned officer turned pale, but he made one more effort to clear himself. "You know, sir, what our captain thinks about me; he has indeed informed you, sir, and when he returns from his furlough and speaks to you, sir, concerning me, you will see that you have done me a bitter injustice."

George plainly perceived the inward significance of these words; they reminded him of the morning when he had been reprimanded by his superior on account of his subordinate officer, and he saw how delighted Nissew was that he would be reprimanded a second time because he had ventured to doubt so excellent an officer as himself. The veins on his forehead swelled, but with a great effort he controlled himself and said, "Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew, whether I am doing you an injustice or not will be decided later, for the present I more than suspect you of the alleged ill-treatment of your subordinates."

Again von Nissew wanted to defend himself, but the sergeant-major appeared to announce that the muskets had all been inspected.

"It is fortunate that you have come, sergeant-major"; and then, turning to him, he said, in a firm, clear voice, "Sergeant-major, take Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew's sword from him, and place him under arrest, pending investigation."

The non-commissioned officer turned as white as the white-washed walls and fell back.

"Now, sergeant-major, why don't you do your work?" asked George, as he still hesitated to carry out the order. "Did you not understand me?"

"Yes, sir," answered the sergeant-major, still with hesitation; "I was only thinking, sir, what the captain would say when he heard this."

With an involuntary movement George laid his hand on his sword. "By Jove, sergeant-major, do you or I command this company? I demand an answer."

"You, sir."

"Well, I am glad you understand that, and now either place the non-commissioned officer under arrest or I shall punish you for disobedience."

This energetic speech had its effect, and the sergeant-major offered no further opposition.

"Unbuckle your sword, von Nissew."

The non-commissioned officer quite mechanically unbuckled the straps and the sword fell to the ground.

The sergeant-major lifted it up. "Come."

And without once raising his eyes, von Nissew, with shaking knees, went down the steps with the sergeant-major, and a little later George saw them going over the yard together, and then they disappeared into the guard-room, which was in the extreme right-hand corner of the large barracks.

Now, for the first time, George understood clearly what he had done, and for a moment he was overwhelmed with doubts as to whether perhaps he had not acted rashly and without due consideration. Then he summoned Meier to him, told him what Petersen had said, and asked him, on his word of honour, if that was all true.

"Were you forced to swear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you beaten?"

"I can show you the marks still, sir."

The men must certainly have seen that the non-commissioned officer had been placed under arrest, otherwise Meier would not have spoken so openly.

"Show them me."

The man pulled down his trousers and George could distinctly see the marks of the bloody weals caused by the heavy whip.

"That will do."

The man pulled up his garments again, and in spite of the traces of the brutal ill-treatment George could not help feeling almost pleased at the sight of them. He had not accused von Nissew unjustly; here were proofs of his guilt.

Soon after the sergeant-major returned. "The order is carried out."

"Thank you; dismiss the men. I want to speak to the non-commissioned officers alone."

The latter stood round their lieutenant in a semi-circle, and George purposely made them stand to attention so that his words might be all the more impressive. "I want to inform you at once that I have placed von Nissew under arrest for gross ill-treatment of his subordinates. As so often happens, the matter came to light quite by chance. Had I not attended the inspection to-day, as was originally my intention, I should probably have never known about this, and these disgusting brutalities, for I can call them nothing else, would have continued. I am informed that many other non-commissioned officers have acted in the same way as von Nissew. I cannot feel sure whether you knew about this ill-treatment and failed to notify it, or whether you also have ill-treated your men. I will not examine into that now; it will rather be the subject of a judicial inquiry. To-day I only wanted to say to you that any one of you who does not feel absolutely free from guilt ought to be thoroughly ashamed of himself. I am certainly the last man to blame a non-commissioned officer if, in a fit of anger at a soldier's stupidity or stubbornness, he so far loses his self-control as to give him a blow or a push. Our men quite understand that, and they don't mind a blow given in a state of excitement; they know it does not mean anything, and they know perfectly well that when they are no longer recruits they in their turn will give a secret shove or blow without meaning anything brutal by it. But there is the whole difference in the world between forgetting one's self in one's zeal for duty and knowingly and with consideration ill-treating anyone. The former is human, the latter simply brutal and beastly. Condign punishment will be administered to Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew and to everyone who is guilty of such brutal behaviour. Now, I want to speak very briefly to you about another matter. I am told that the men are afraid of being alone with you to-night in the barracks, because they fear you will revenge yourselves on them for my having placed Non-Commissioned Officer von Nissew under arrest. It is a fine testimonial to you that the men are afraid of you instead of having trust in you, and you must all be very proud of this fact." There was bitter irony in the words. Then George continued: "I will rely on your honour that these fears are groundless, but I have promised to see that no one is ill-treated to-night. I therefore order the sergeant-major and the sergeant to supervise the men's rooms till bedtime and to change guard every two hours, and all the doors are to remain open. At nine o'clock I will take over the duty. That is all I wanted to tell you."

The non-commissioned officers were dismissed. During his speech George had studied their faces carefully – a great many of them had turned alternately crimson and pale, some tried to appear as if the whole thing did not concern them and as if they were entirely free from all blame, but George felt that there were very few who had an absolutely clear conscience.

George went with the sergeant-major into the reading-room of the company to draw up a report of the case and present it to the battalion. It would then be sent to the regiment, and then, owing to the gravity of the case, to the superior courts. He sent off the lance-corporal, who usually acted as clerk, and turned to the sergeant-major. He was horrified at what he had heard and seen, and spoke quite freely about it. "Tell me, sergeant, how is such a thing possible? How is it conceivable that such a thing should have gone on for weeks without anyone knowing anything about it? Did you know anything about it? You live with the men in the same corridor; you must often, both by day and by night, have gone through the rooms – did you not notice anything suspicious?"

Instead of an answer the sergeant-major merely shrugged his shoulders.

"What does that mean?" demanded George; "you don't mean to tell me that the whole thing was an absolute and complete surprise to you?"

"No, not exactly that," answered the sergeant-major after a slight pause, "but when the time comes for speaking I shall feel quite at my ease; I am aware that I shall be called as a witness at the investigation and must say on oath all that I know about it."

"And what do you know?"

"Really very little, sir, and I can swear with a good conscience that I have never seen or heard anything, and I can equally truthfully swear that no man has ever come to me and made a complaint. I should have made myself liable to punishment if anyone had made an official complaint to me and I had not conveyed it to the proper authorities."

"Quite true, and you say your conscience is quite free from blame."

"I really think so, sir, and I am sure that they cannot bring up anything against me at the inquiry, and that is the important thing for an old soldier who in a few months will have served his twelve years and earned his gratuity and pension."

"Outwardly that is so, certainly," agreed George, "but your words would seem to indicate that you do not really feel absolutely free from all blame."