s, "And it was this point that I was to occupy. What do you
think of that?"

Uncle Frederick's words flashed across Cousin Hans's mind, and, nodding
vehemently, he said: "Of course, the only thing to be done--the key to
the position?"

The captain started back and became quite serious. But when he
saw Cousin Hans's disconcerted expression, his good-nature got the
upperhand, and he laughed and said:

"No, my dear sir! there you're quite mistaken. However," he added,
with a quiet smile, "it's a mistake which you share with several of our
highest military authorities. No, now let me show you the key to the
position."

And then he began to demonstrate at large that the point which he had
been ordered to occupy was quite without strategical importance; while,
on the other hand, the movement which he made on his own responsibility
placed the enemy in the direst embarrassment, and would have delayed the
advance of Corps B by several hours.

Tired and dazed as Cousin Hans was, he could not help admiring the
judicious course adopted by the military authorities towards Captain
Schrappe, if, indeed, there was anything in Uncle Frederick's story
about the Order of the Sword.

For if the captain's original manoeuvre was, strategically speaking,
a stroke of genius, it was undoubtedly right that he should receive a
decoration. But, on the other hand, it was no less clear that the man
who could suppose that in a sham-fight it was in the least desirable to
delay or embarass any one was quite out of place in an army like ours.
He ought to have known that the true object of the manoeuvres was to let
the opposing armies, with their baggage and commissariat wagons, meet at
a given time and in a given place, there to have a general picnic.

While Hans was buried in these thoughts, the captain finished the
sham-fight. He was by no means so pleased with his listener as he
had been upon the esplanade; he seemed, somehow, to have become
absent-minded.

It was now nine o'clock; but, as Cousin Hans had made up his mind that
he would hold out till half-past nine, he dragged through one of the
longest half-hours that had ever come within his experience. The captain
grew sleepy, Miss Betty gave short and dry answers; Hans had himself to
provide the conversation--weary, out of temper, unhappy and love-sick as
he was.

At last the clock was close upon half-past nine; he rose, explaining
that he was accustomed to go early to bed, because he