Smiling, and with elastic step, the king advanced to meet the two grenadiers, who stood rooted to the spot as he approached them. "Grenadiers," said he, "why are you not with your comrades?"
"It is dishonorable to fly," said the other.
The king was startled. These voices were familiar, he had surely heard them before.
"I ought to know you," said he, "this is not the first time we have spoken together. What is your name, my son?"
"Fritz Kober is my name," said the grenadier.
"Charles Henry Buschman," said the other.
"You are not mistaken, sir king! we have met and spoken before, but it was on a better night than this."
"The night before the great, the glorious battle of Leuthen," said Fritz Kober, gravely; "at that time, sir king, you sat at our tent- fire and ate dumplings with us. Charles Henry knows how to cook them so beautifully!"