“I admire Mademoiselle Lannes, although I have known her only ten minutes, but I think, Your Highness, that my admiration is warranted, and also that it is not lacking in respect.”

“Good for you, von Arnheim,” said John, under his breath.  But the medieval mind of Auersperg was not disturbed.  The slow, cruel smile passed across his face again.

“You are brave my Wilhelm,” he said, “but I am confirmed in my opinion that some of our princely houses have become tainted.  The harm that was done when Napoleon smashed his way through Europe has never been undone.  The touch of the democracy was defilement, and it does not pass.  Do you think our ancestors would have wasted so much time over a miserable French peasant?”

This was a long speech, much too long for the circumstances, John thought, but von Arnheim still standing stiffly at attention, merely said: 

“Your Highness I ask this man’s life of you.  He is not a franc tireur in the real sense.”

“Since you make it a personal matter, my brave young Wilhelm, I yield.  Let him be held a prisoner, but no more requests of the same kind.  This is positively the last time I shall yield to such a weakness.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” said von Arnheim.  Julie gave him one flashing look of gratitude and stepped away from Picard, who had stood, his arms folded across his chest, refusing to utter a single word for mercy.  “This indeed,” thought John “is a man.”  Suzanne was near, and now both he and his daughter turned away relaxing in no wise their looks of grim resolution.  “Here also is a woman as well as a man,” thought John.

“I hope, Your Highness, that I may assign Mademoiselle Lannes and her maid to one of the upper rooms,” said von Arnheim in tones respectful, but very firm.  “Here also is another man,” thought John.

“You may,” said Auersperg shortly, “but let the peasant be sent to the stables, where the other prisoners are kept.”

Two soldiers were called and they took Picard away.  Julie and Suzanne followed von Arnheim to a stairway, and John was left alone with medievalism.  The man wore no armor, but when only they two stood in the room his feeling that he was back in the Middle Ages was overpowering.  Here was the baron, and here was he, untitled and unknown.

Auersperg glanced at Julie, disappearing up the stairway, and then glanced back at John.  Over his heavy face passed the same slow cruel smile that set all John’s nerves to jumping.

“Why have you, an American, come so far to fight against us?” he asked.

“I didn’t come for that purpose.  I was here, visiting, and I was caught in the whirl of the war, an accident, perhaps.  But my sympathies are wholly with France.  I fight in her ranks from choice.”

Auersperg laughed unpleasantly.

“A republic!” he said.  “Millions of the ignorant, led by demagogues!  Bah!  The Hohenzollerns will scatter them like chaff!”