in
English.

"Perhaps to gloat over me," was the quiet reply.

"No. Is it necessary? At Aix I was excited. The Day had come. The Day of
which we Germans have dreamed for many a year. I am young, but I have
already won promotion. I belong to an irresistible army. War steadies a
man. But when we reach Oombergen you will be paraded before a crusty old
General, and even I, Von Halwig of the staff, and a friend of the
Emperor, may not converse with a spy and a murderer. So we shall have a
little chat now. What say you?"

"It all depends what you wish to talk about."

"About you and her ladyship, of course."

"May I ask whom you mean by 'her ladyship'?"

"Isn't that correct English?"

"It can be, if applied to a lady of title. But when used with reference
presumably to a young lady who is a governess, it sounds like clumsy
sarcasm."

"Governess the devil! With whom, then, have you been roaming Belgium?"

"Miss Irene Beresford, of course."

"You're not a fool, Captain Dalroy. Do you honestly tell me you don't
_know_?"

"Know what?"

"That the girl you brought from Berlin is Lady Irene Beresford, daughter
of the Earl of Glastonbury."

There was a moment of intense silence. In some ways it was immaterial to
Dalroy what social position had been filled by the woman he loved. But,
in others, the discovery that Irene was actually the aristocrat she
looked was a very vital and serious thing. It made clear the meaning of
certain references to distinguished people, both in Germany and in
England, which had puzzled him at times. Transcending all else in
importance, it might even safeguard her from German malevolence, since
the Teuton pays an absurd homage to mere rank.

"I did not know," he said, and his voice was not so thoroughly under
control as he desired.

Von Halwig laughed loudly. "_Almaechtig!_" he spluttered, "our smart
corporal of hussars seems to have spoiled a romance. What a pity! You'll
be shot before midnight, my gallant captain, but the lady will be sent
to Berlin with the utmost care. Even I, who have an educated taste in
the female line, daren't wink at her. Has she never told you why she
bolted in such a hurry?"

"No."

"Never hinted that a royal prince was wild about her?"

"No."

"Well, you have my word for it. _Himmel!_ women are queer."

"She has suffered much to escape from your royal prince."

"She'll be returned to him now, slightly soiled, but nearly as good as
new."

"I wish m