Hartmut's intense pride, and this pride was
dragged in the dirt day after day in the degrading position which he
occupied.

He had heard of the ceaseless labor on Chapel hill, of the days and
nights employed in digging trenches, of the worn bodies, the bleeding
hands. That was what Rojanow did now, the same Rojanow who had had a
city at his feet one short year before, who had been the honored guest
at princely boards, whose successful work had not only placed the laurel
wreath on his brow, but had brought him a fortune as well. And besides
all this, he was General von Falkenried's son.

Egon's breast heaved violently as he thought of it all. Then his lost
confidence came back to him slowly, and banished the unjust doubts.
Hartmut was atoning now for his boyish folly. As for the rest, his
mother, and she alone, was to blame.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when the prince left his
quarters in order to visit the commandant. He did not go on an affair of
service, but in answer to an invitation from the general, who had been
an old friend of his father, and had looked after the son, since the
campaign began, with fatherly solicitude. Egon would have given much to
be alone this evening, for his meeting with Hartmut had moved him
deeply, but a soldier has little time for brooding, and an invitation
from a commanding officer must not be set aside.

As the young prince went into the house he met an adjutant coming out,
who explained breathlessly that there was bad news, but that the general
would tell him all.

The general was alone, and was pacing the room in great excitement,
gesticulating and muttering as he went.

"Ah, Prince Adelsberg, is it you?" he exclaimed, halting in his walk as
Egon entered the room. "I can't promise you a pleasant evening, for we
have had intelligence which destroys all sociability for us to-night."

"The adjutant said something about trouble," answered Egon. "What is it,
your excellency? The despatches at midday were very favorable."

"I only got the news an hour ago. The man you sent to headquarters
to-night as a suspicious character had it all. Do you know what he had
with him?"

"Captain Salfeld sent word he had papers of little importance,
apparently, but thought they might contain some secret advices; of
course, a spy would not carry anything in writing that looked suspicious
on the surface."

"Well, the papers were most important. The man was a coward, naturally,
and wh