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Page 104
John saw Julie's face flush a deep red, and his hand stole down to his
belt, but no weapon was there. Von Arnheim's face reddened also, but he
stood at attention before his superior officer and replied with dignity:
"I admire Mademoiselle Lannes, although I have known her only ten
minutes, but I think, Your Highness, that my admiration is warranted,
and also that it is not lacking in respect."
"Good for you, von Arnheim," said John, under his breath. But the
medieval mind of Auersperg was not disturbed. The slow, cruel smile
passed across his face again.
"You are brave my Wilhelm," he said, "but I am confirmed in my opinion
that some of our princely houses have become tainted. The harm that was
done when Napoleon smashed his way through Europe has never been undone.
The touch of the democracy was defilement, and it does not pass. Do you
think our ancestors would have wasted so much time over a miserable
French peasant?"
This was a long speech, much too long for the circumstances, John
thought, but von Arnheim still standing stiffly at attention, merely
said:
"Your Highness I ask this man's life of you. He is not a _franc tireur_
in the real sense."
"Since you make it a personal matter, my brave young Wilhelm, I yield.
Let him be held a prisoner, but no more requests of the same kind. This
is positively the last time I shall yield to such a weakness."
"Thank you, Your Highness," said von Arnheim. Julie gave him one
flashing look of gratitude and stepped away from Picard, who had stood,
his arms folded across his chest, refusing to utter a single word for
mercy. "This indeed," thought John "is a man." Suzanne was near, and now
both he and his daughter turned away relaxing in no wise their looks of
grim resolution. "Here also is a woman as well as a man," thought John.
"I hope, Your Highness, that I may assign Mademoiselle Lannes and her
maid to one of the upper rooms," said von Arnheim in tones respectful,
but very firm. "Here also is another man," thought John.
"You may," said Auersperg shortly, "but let the peasant be sent to the
stables, where the other prisoners are kept."
Two soldiers were called and they took Picard away. Julie and Suzanne
followed von Arnheim to a stairway, and John was left alone with
medievalism. The man wore no armor, but when only they two stood in the
room his feeling that he was back in the Middle Ages was overpowering.
Here was the baron, and here was he, untitled and unknown.
Auersperg glanced at Julie, disappearing up the stairway, and then
glanced back at John. Over his heavy face passed the same slow cruel
smile that set all John's nerves to jumping.
"Why have you, an American, come so far to fight against us?" he asked.
"I didn't come for that purpose. I was here, visiting, and I was caught
in the whirl of the war, an accident, perhaps. But my sympathies are
wholly with France. I fight in her ranks from choice."
Auersperg laughed unpleasantly.
"A republic!" he said. "Millions of the ignorant, led by demagogues!
Bah! The Hohenzollerns will scatter them like chaff!"
"I can't positively say that I saw any Hohenzollern, but I did see their
armies turned back from Paris by those ignorant people, led by their
demagogues. I'm not even sure of the name of the French general who did
it, but God gave him a better brain for war, though he may have been
born a peasant for all I know, than he did to your Kaiser, or any king,
prince, grand duke or duke in all the German armies!"
John had been tried beyond endurance and he knew that he had spoken with
impulsive passion, but he knew also that he had spoken with truth. The
face of Auersperg darkened. The medieval baron, full of power, without
responsibility, believing implicitly in what he chose to call his order,
but which was merely the chance of birth, was here. And while the Middle
Ages in reality had passed, war could hide many a dark tale. John was
unable to read the intent in the cruel eyes, but they heard the
footsteps of von Arnheim on the stairs, and the clenched hand that had
been raised fell back by Auersperg's side. Nevertheless medievalism did
not relax its gaze.
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