“But she loves the young mademoiselle.  One can see that,” said Ilse, “and she will guard her.”

John wished to know what had become of Antoine, but he did not dare ask pointed questions.  Julie left the window presently and the light went with her.  The sunlight was dying now on the eastern mountains, but a great happiness came to him.  He had found her.  The footsteps of the crusader had been guided aright.  His star had led him on through many dangers, and his spirit was high with hope.

It was, perhaps, well that the growing twilight kept Ilse and Olga from seeing the glow in his eyes, but it was time for the two to go, and, laughing and supporting each other in what they considered a mild flirtation, they disappeared within the castle.  John sent a smile after them.  They were good girls and he knew that he had made two valuable friends who would tell him all that was happening to Julie in Zillenstein.

He went back to the stables and plunged anew into his work with a zeal and skill that aroused the admiration of Walther.  His knowledge of horses was most useful to him now, and, as he had also learned much about automobiles in his campaigning, he volunteered to help with them too.  He saw the great limousine in which the prince himself had traveled, and he helped two of the hostlers to clean it.  Walther growled as he looked on.

“When I was a lad,” he said, “the magnificent, living horse was king at Zillenstein.  Now it’s a machine that can’t either think or feel.”

“We can’t fight the times, Herr Walther,” said John, cheerfully.  “The automobile like the railway has come to stay.”

“I suppose so, but the noble Count Kratzek returns.  Take his horse.”

John went forward and held the bridle after the young Austrian had dismounted.  Kratzek had a fine color from his ride, and he seemed to John to be completely well of his wound.  He handed the young peasant who was holding his horse half a krone, and then walked briskly into the castle.

John put the little silver piece in his pocket, after having touched his cap, and led the horse into the stable.  He did not feel humiliated.  He found something humorous in receiving a tip of ten cents from the man whose life he had saved.  He unsaddled the horse, put him in his stall, rubbed him down, and came forth to receive the unqualified praise of Walther.

“You, Castel,” he said, “you’re a fiend for work.  I can see that.  Most of my men look upon work as an enemy.  They run from it and hide from it.  Now, come you to the kitchen and you shall eat well in reward.”

The great kitchen for the servants and retainers, who were many, was in the basement of the castle and John, his appetite sharp from the day’s work, ate bountifully.  The obvious fact that he had already won the regard of Walther, a man of importance, inspired respect for him, and once the brunette Ilse, flitting through the kitchen, gave him a glance of approval.