Once he passed Ilse and Olga, those twin spirits of mischief and kindness, and they stopped him to speak of the great company that was coming.

“They say it’s to be the mightiest array of princes and generals gathered at Zillenstein in a hundred years,” said Ilse.

“So I hear,” said John.

“And you may be called from the stable to serve in the castle.  The man who rode the horse of Count Pappenheim may have to carry a plate and a napkin.”

“One can but do his best.”

“But it will be a great scene.  Perhaps the Kaiser himself will be here, or the old Emperor.”

“Perhaps.”

“Aren’t you eager to see them?” asked Ilse, piqued a little at his lack of curiosity.

“Oh yes,” replied John, recalling that he must make believe, “but I’ve seen the Kaiser several times and once at Vienna I could almost have reached out my hand and touched the old Emperor, as he rode on his way to Schonbrunn.”

He passed on and they looked after him.  They liked the bearing of this young peasant who was respectful, but who certainly was never servile.  But it was in John’s mind that however brilliant the great council might be he would not see it.  He was surely going from Zillenstein but it was for the future to say whether his absence would be short or long.

While John was at the stables young Kratzek sent for his horse, and John, after his custom, led the animal to him.  He had long since ceased to fear discovery by the Austrian, and his immunity made him careless, or it may be that Kratzek’s eyes were uncommonly keen that day.  He stood beside John, as the young American fixed the stirrup, and some motion or gesture of the seeming peasant suddenly appeared familiar to Kratzek.

Before John had realized what he intended Kratzek suddenly seized him by both shoulders and turning him around, looked straight into his eyes.

“Scott, the American, and a spy!” he exclaimed.

John’s heart missed several beats.  He knew that it was useless to deny, but in a moment or two he had himself under full control.

“Yes, it’s Scott, and I’m in disguise, but I’m not a spy,” he said.

“The penalty anyhow is death.”

“But you’ll not betray me!”

“You saved my life at the great peril of your own.”

John was silent.  He felt that the time had come for Kratzek to repay, but he would not say so.  Now his own look was straight and high, and it was Kratzek’s that wavered.

“You pledge your word that you are not seeking to pry into our military secrets?” asked the Austrian at length.

“No such purpose is in my mind at all, and I leave here within twenty-four hours as ignorant of them as I was when I came.”

“Then, sir, I do not know you.  I never saw you before, and I believe you are the peasant you seem to be.”

Kratzek gave him one look of intense curiosity, then sprang upon his horse, and rode away, never looking back.