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Page 51
The officer's tone had suddenly become suspicious, but John was
prepared. Opening his heavy blouse he took from an inside pocket a
handful of German gold and notes. The young lieutenant glanced at the
money and his suspicions departed.
"It's good German," he said, "and I don't think a peasant like you could
have got it unless he had something valuable to sell. Come, you shall go
back with us and I'll turn you over to a higher officer. I'm Lieutenant
Heinrich Schmidt, and we're part of a Saxon division."
John went with them without hesitation. In fact, he felt little fear.
There was nothing to disprove his statements, and he was not one of
those who looked upon Germans as barbarians. Experience had shown him
that ordinary Germans had plenty of human kindness. He sniffed the
pleasant odors that came from the kitchen automobiles near by, and
remarked na�vely that he would be glad to share their rations until they
passed him on.
"Very well, Castel," said Lieutenant Schmidt, "you shall have your
share, but I must take you first to our colonel. He will have important
questions to ask you."
"I'm ready," said John in an indifferent tone. But as he went with the
men he noted as well as he could, without attracting attention to
himself, the German position. Rifle pits and trenches appeared at
irregular intervals, but the mountains themselves furnished the chief
fortifications. In such country as this it would be difficult for either
side to drive back the other, a fact which the enemies themselves seemed
to concede, as there was no firing on this portion of the line. But at
points far to the west the great guns muttered, and their faint echoes
ran through the gorges.
The path led around one of the crests, and they came to a little cluster
of tiny huts, which John knew to be the quarters of officers. Snug, too,
they looked, with smoke coming out of stovepipes that ran through the
roofs of several of them. A tall man, broad of shoulder, slender of
waist, blue of eye, yellow of hair, and not more than thirty, came
forward to meet them. John recognized at once a typical German officer
of high birth, learned in his trade, arrogant, convinced of his own
superiority, but brave and meaning to be fair.
"A peasant of Lorraine, sir," said Lieutenant Schmidt. "He says that his
name is Jean Castel, and that he has been selling cattle. We found him
wandering between the lines. He was unarmed and he has considerable
money."
"Come closer," said the officer to John. "I'm Colonel Joachim Stratz,
the commander of this regiment, and you must give a thorough account of
yourself."
John advanced willingly and saluted, feeling that the glance Colonel
Stratz bent upon him was heavy and piercing. Yet he awaited the result
with confidence. It was true that he was American, but he had been with
the French so much now that he had acquired many of their tricks of
manner, and his French accent was impeccable.
"You are a seller of cattle?" said Colonel Stratz, suddenly in English.
The words of reply began to form, but John remembered himself in time.
He was a French peasant who understood no English, and giving Colonel
Stratz a puzzled look he shook his head. But he wondered what suspicion
had caused the German to ask him a question in English. He concluded it
must be a mere chance.
Colonel Stratz then addressed him in German, and John replied to all his
queries, speaking with a strong French accent, repeating the tale that
he had told Lieutenant Schmidt, and answering everything so readily and
so convincingly that Colonel Joachim Stratz, an acute and able man, was
at last satisfied.
"Where do you wish to go now, Castel?" asked the German.
"To Metz, if it please you, sir."
"Wouldn't it be better for you to stay, put on a uniform, take up a
rifle and fight for our Kaiser and Fatherland?"
John shook his head and put on the preternaturally wise look of the
light-witted.
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