"Will you be back in two hours?" he asked at last.
"Certainly father, or sooner, if you desire it."
"Well, go," said the Major with a deep sigh. It was only his sense of
justice which forced the permission from his lips. "As soon as you come
back, we will go home. It is nearly the end of your vacation anyway."
Hartmut, who was on the point of starting, turned back suddenly. The
words brought forcibly to his mind, what he had forgotten in the last
hour, the compulsion and severity of the hated regimen he would again
have to endure. He had never ventured openly to avow his aversion for
the army, but this hour, which took from him all shyness towards his
father, also removed the seal from his lips. After a moment's hesitation
he returned to his father, and putting his arm around his neck, said:
"I have a request, a most earnest request to make of you, which I know
you will grant, as a proof of your love for me."
The Major's brows contracted as he asked, reprovingly:
"Do you need any proof? Well, let's hear it."
Hartmut clung still closer to him and his voice assumed its sweetest
and most flattering tones, and the dark eyes were almost irresistible in
their look of entreaty, as he said beseechingly:
"Do not let me become a soldier, father. I do not like the profession
you have chosen for me, and I shall never learn to like it.
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