long ago."

"I did?" non-committally.

"Yes. Soon I shall be shaking the dust of Dreiberg, and I want to know
beforehand what this Chinese puzzle is. What did you do that compelled
your flight from Ehrenstein?"

Grumbach's pipe hung pendulent in his hand. He swung it to and fro
absently.

"I am waiting. Remember, you are an American citizen, for all that you
were born here. If anything should happen to you, I must know the whole
story in order to help you. You know that you may trust me."

"It isn't that, Captain. I have grown to like you in these few days."

"What has that to do with it?" impatiently.

"Nothing, perhaps. Only, if I tell you, you will not be my friend."

"Nonsense! What you did sixteen years ago doesn't matter now. It is
enough for me that you fought in my regiment, and that you were a brave
soldier."

"Those opera-glasses; it was an idea. Well, since you will know. I was a
gardener's boy. I worked under my brother Hermann. I used to ask the
nurse, who had charge of her serene highness, where she would go each
day. Then I'd cut flowers and meet them on the road somewhere and give
the bouquet to the child. There was never any escort; a footman and a
driver. The little one was always greatly pleased, and she would call
me Hans. I was in love those days." Grumbach laughed with bitterness.
"Yes, even I. Her name was Tekla, and she was a jade. I wanted to run
away, but I had no money. I had already secured a passport; no matter
how. It was the first affair, and I was desperately hurt. One day a
Gipsy came to me. I shall always know him by the yellow spot in one of
his black eyes. I was given a thousand crowns to tell him which road her
highness was to be driven over the next day. As I said, I was mad with
love. Why a Gipsy should want to know where her highness was going to
ride was of no consequence to me. I told him. I was to get the money the
same night. It was thus that her highness was stolen; it was thus that I
became accessory before the fact, as the lawyers say. Flight with a band
of Magyar Gipsies; weary days in the mountains, with detachments of
troops scouring the whole duchy. Finally I escaped. A fortune was
offered for the immediate return of the child. At the time I believed
that it was an abduction for ransom. But no one ever came forward for
the reward. There was a price on my head when it was known that I had
fled." Grumbach stared into his pipe without seeing anything.

"And no