John’s frank face and cheerful manner again made friends for him.  The stout innkeeper and his stout wife favored him with the food, and hearing that he had come from Metz they wanted to know all the gossip, which he told them as far as he knew.  He had noted the broad track of the great limousine in the road before he entered the inn, and thinking it must have stopped there for a little while, he spoke casually of those who passed.

“Aye,” said the innkeeper, “many go by, many of whom will never come back.  They go mostly toward Metz, but a great prince traveling in the other direction came today, before noon, and we served him refreshment.”

“Perhaps it was the Prince of Auersperg,” said John.  “He was in Metz when I was there, and I saw him leave.”

“They did not tell me his name, but that must have been the man.”

“He was in a great, dark red automobile.”

“Then it was surely he.  One could not mistake that automobile.  I take it that only kings and princes travel in its like.”

“He carried with him two Frenchwomen, dangerous spies, intended for imprisonment in Germany.”

“So I heard, and we saw the face of one of them, very young and with the most marvelous golden hair.  I never saw a fairer face.  But, as all the world knows, the most beautiful women are often the most wicked.  I suppose there wasn’t a woman among the Philistines who could compare with Delilah in either face or figure.”

“I suppose not,” said John, scarcely able to restrain a smile.  “Did the women come into the inn?”

“Oh, no.  My wife took food to them in the automobile.  She saw them much better than I did.  She says that the younger one—­and she was but a girl—­spoke softly and did not look wicked at all.  But then, my wife is fat and sentimental.”

The stout hausfrau smiled.

“It is Hans who has the heart full of sentiment,” she said.  “When he saw that the French spy was a girl of such beauty and such youth he believed that she should not be punished, and he a good German!  Ah, all men are alike!”

Hans filled his pipe and wisely made no reply.  But John smiled also.

“Is it wicked in a man to have an eye for beauty?” he said.  “I know that my host’s heart has thrilled many a time when he caught a glimpse of the lady who is now his wife and the very competent head of his household.”

It was obvious, but both smiled.

“Hans is not so bad,” said the hausfrau complacently, and John’s compliment won him an unusually good room that night.  Hans told him also that he could probably secure him a place in an empty supply wagon the next morning, and John was grateful.  Walking was good, and it had done much to maintain his strength and steady his nerves, but one could not walk all the way across Germany.

He was aware that he was surrounded by dangers but he felt that the omens remained fair.  Perhaps the good wishes that had been given to him still clothed him about and protected him from harm.  In abnormal times the human mind seeks more than an ordinary faith.