ic had already seen the pair, arms joined, who paced upon
the side-lawn near at hand and had now stopped to look towards them.
It was the old Contessa, who owned the house and still occupied a
part of it, and the Contessina, her daughter. He knew the former as a
disconcerting and never disconcerted specter of an aged lady, with
lips that trembled and eyes that never faltered, and the latter as a
serious, silent, tall girl with the black hair and oval Madonna face
of her country and he knew her, too, as a vague and aching
disturbance in his mind, a presence that troubled his leisure.

"You make your war here as sadly as a funeral," said Captain Hahn. "A
fresh and joyous war--that's what it ought to be! Now, in Flanders,
we'd have had that girl in with us at the mess." He laughed his rich,
throaty laugh that seemed to lay a smear of himself over the subject
of his mirth. "That at the very least!" he added.

Jovannic could only babble protestingly. "She she" he began in a
flustered indignation. Captain Hahn laughed again. He had the
advantage of the single mind over the mind divided against itself.

At the stables the sergeant of the guard received the prisoner. The
redness of the sunset that dyed the world was over and about the
scene. The sergeant, turning out upon the summons of the sentry,
showed himself as an old Hungarian of the regular army, hairy as a
Skye terrier, with the jovial blackguard air of his kind. He turned
slow, estimating eyes on the bound prisoner.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"Deserter that's what it is," replied Captain Hahn sharply; he found
the Austrian soldiers insufficiently respectful. "Lock him up safely,
you understand. He'll go before the military tribunal to-morrow.
Jovannic, just see to signing the papers and all that, will you?"

"At your orders, Herr Hauptmann," deferred Jovannic formally.

"Right," said Captain Hahn. "See you later, then." He swung off
towards the front of the great mansion. Jovannic turned to his
business of consigning the prisoner to safe keeping.

"You can untie his hands now," he said to the men of the escort as
the sergeant moved away to fetch the committal book. The sergeant
turned at his words.

"Plenty of time for that," he said in his hoarse and too familiar
tones. "It's me that's responsible for him, isn't it? Well, then, let
them stay tied up till I've had a look at him. I know these fellows I
do."

"He can't get away from here," began Jovannic im