A man driving a flock of sheep was coming toward them.  He was a sturdy fellow, with a red feather in his cap, which was cocked a bit saucily on one side of his head.  It was evident that he was a shepherd, whose sheep had been driven into the lowlands by the storm.  John, both from prudence and natural consideration, brought his machine down to a slow pace, and spoke pleasantly to the man, who was looking at them with much curiosity.

“We’re from the family of the Prince of Auersperg,” said John, “and we’re making our way toward the coast.  The prince wishes a lady whom he esteems very highly to reach Trieste as soon as possible.  Where can we find the best inn for the night?”

“The village of Tellnitz, which you should reach about dark, has a famous inn, and there is no finer landlord than Herr Leinfelder.”

John thanked him, and drove on, increasing his speed, after he had passed the sheep.  He looked back once, and saw the shepherd placidly driving his flock before him.  He was singing, too, and the musical notes came to them, telling them very clearly that one Austrian, at least, did not suspect them.

“Our first test has been passed successfully,” said John, “and I look upon it as a good omen.  But don’t forget that I’m Jean Castel of Lorraine, French by descent, but a devoted German subject, in the service of the Prince of Auersperg.  I intend that we shall pass the night in the inn of the good Herr Leinfelder at Tellnitz, and I believe that we will go on the next day still unsuspected.  I’ve seen no telephone wires in the valley, and doubtless there is no connection between Zillenstein and Tellnitz.”

They passed more peasants, none of whom asked them any questions, but they saw no soldiers.

Toward night they beheld the usual lofty church spire, and then the huddled houses of a small village.  One rather larger than the others and with a red-tiled roof John thought must be the inn of the good Herr Leinfelder, and his surmise proved to be correct.

“It’s fortunate that you are blond,” said John to Julie, “as most people think the French are dark.  Still, both you and Suzanne look French, and I recommend that you do not take off your wraps until you go to your room, and that you also have your dinner served there.  It’s best for you, Mademoiselle Julie, to be seen as little as possible, and your role as a great lady of the semi-royal house of Auersperg permits it.  Now, may I lay the injunction upon both you and Suzanne that you permit me to do all the talking?”

“I obey,” said Julie, “but I’m not so sure of Suzanne.”

“I never talk unless it’s needful for me to speak,” said Suzanne with dignity.

Many eyes watched the great limousine as it rolled into Tellnitz, and stopped before the excellent inn of Herr Johann Ignatz Leinfelder.  Herr Leinfelder himself appeared upon the gravel, his round red face beaming at the sight of guests, evidently of importance, at a time when so few guests of any kind at all came.  John in his role of chauffeur said to him with an air of importance: