“You must know, then, that my boy was in the artillery—­a fine young fellow, Captain Baumgarten, and the pride of his mother.  She died within a week of the news of his death reaching us.  It was brought by a brother officer who was at his side throughout, and who escaped while my lad died.  I want to tell you all that he told me.

“Eustace was taken at Weissenburg on the 4th of August.  The prisoners were broken up into parties, and sent back into Germany by different routes.  Eustace was taken upon the 5th to a village called Lauterburg, where he met with kindness from the German officer in command.  This good colonel had the hungry lad to supper, offered him the best he had, opened a bottle of good wine, as I have tried to do for you, and gave him a cigar from his own case.  Might I entreat you to take one from mine?”

The German again shook his head.  His horror of his companion had increased as he sat watching the lips that smiled and the eyes that glared.

“The colonel, as I say, was good to my boy.  But, unluckily, the prisoners were moved next day across the Rhine into Ettlingen.  They were not equally fortunate there.  The officer who guarded them was a ruffian and a villain, Captain Baumgarten.  He took a pleasure in humiliating and ill-treating the brave men who had fallen into his power.  That night upon my son answering fiercely back to some taunt of his, he struck him in the eye, like this!”

The crash of the blow rang through the hall.  The German’s face fell forward, his hand up, and blood oozing through his fingers.  The count settled down in his chair once more.

“My boy was disfigured by the blow, and this villain made his appearance the object of his jeers.  By the way, you look a little comical yourself at the present moment, captain, and your colonel would certainly say that you had been getting into mischief.  To continue, however, my boy’s youth and his destitution—­for his pockets were empty—­moved the pity of a kind-hearted major, and he advanced him ten Napoleons from his own pocket without security of any kind.  Into your hands, Captain Baumgarten, I return these ten gold pieces, since I cannot learn the name of the lender.  I am grateful from my heart for this kindness shown to my boy.

“The vile tyrant who commanded the escort accompanied the prisoners to Durlack, and from there to Carlsruhe.  He heaped every outrage upon my lad, because the spirit of the Chateau Noirs would not stoop to turn away his wrath by a feigned submission.  Ay, this cowardly villain, whose heart’s blood shall yet clot upon this hand, dared to strike my son with his open hand, to kick him, to tear hairs from his moustache—­ to use him thus—­and thus—­and thus!”

The German writhed and struggled.  He was helpless in the hands of this huge giant whose blows were raining upon him.  When at last, blinded and half-senseless, he staggered to his feet, it was only to be hurled back again into the great oaken chair.  He sobbed in his impotent anger and shame.