the end
this most extraordinary and Heaven-directed occurrence. The innkeeper
and his wife busied themselves with the breakfast, and Guy made remarks
every now and then from his phrase book, which were usually
incomprehensible, except when they concerned a further supply of beer.
With a brave acceptance of the courtesies of the country he had accepted
a cigar from the driver, and was already contemplating the awful moment
when he would have to light it. Just then an interruption came.

It was something very official, but whether military or of the police
Guy could not tell. It strode into the room with clanking of spurs, and
the driver and innkeeper alike stood up in respect. It saluted Guy. Guy
took off his hat. Then there came words, but Guy was busy with his
phrase book.

"I cannot a word of German speak!" he announced at last.

A deadlock ensued. The innkeeper and the driver rushed into the breach.
Conversation became furious. Guy took advantage of the moment to slip
the cigar into his pocket, and to light a cigarette. Finally, the
officer swung himself round, and departed abruptly.

"Dolmetscher," the driver announced to him triumphantly.

"Dolmetscher," the innkeeper repeated.

Guy turned it up in his phrase book, and found that it meant
interpreter. He devoted himself then to stimulating the preparations for
breakfast.

The meal was ready at last. There were eggs and ham and veal,
dark-colored bread, and coffee, sufficient for about a dozen people. The
driver constituted himself host, and Guy, with a shout of laughter, sat
down where he was, and ate. In the midst of the meal the officer
reappeared, ushering in a small wizened-faced individual of unmistakably
English appearance. Guy turned round in his chair, and the newcomer
touched his forelock.

"Hullo!" Guy exclaimed. "You're English!"

"Yes, sir!" the man answered. "Came over to train polo ponies for the
Prince of Haepsburg. Not in any trouble, I hope, sir?"

"Not I," Guy answered cheerily. "Don't mind my going on with my
breakfast, do you? What's it all about? Who's the gentleman with the
fireman's helmet on, and what's he worrying about?"

"He is an officer of the police, sir, on special service," the man
answered. "You have been reported for trespassing on the State railway
this morning."

"Trespassing be blowed!" Guy answered. "I've got my ticket for the
frontier. We were blocked by signal about half a dozen miles off this
place, and I got