John was silent.  He believed that these preliminaries on the part of the old general were intended to create an atmosphere, a belief in his mind that German power was invincible.

“We have withdrawn a portion of our force today,” continued the general, “in order to rectify our line.  Our army had advanced too far.  Tomorrow we resume our march on Paris.”

John felt that it was an extraordinary statement for an old man, one of such high rank, the commander of perhaps a quarter of a million soldiers, to be making to him, a young American, but he held his peace, awaiting what lay behind it all.

“Now you are a captive,” continued the general, “you will be sent to a prison, and you will be held there until the end of the war.  You will necessarily suffer much.  We cannot help it.  Yet you might be sent to your own country.  Americans and Germans are not enemies.  I know from Captain von Boehlen who took you that you have been in an aeroplane with a Frenchman.  Some account of what you saw from space might help your departure for America.”

And so that was it!  Now the prisoner’s eye steadily confronted that of the old general.

“Your Highness,” he said, as he thought that the old man might be a prince as well as a general, “you have read the history of the great civil war in my country, have you not?”

“It was a part of my military duty to study it.  It was a long and desperate struggle with many great battles, but what has it to do with the present?”

“Did you ever hear of any traitor on either side, North or South, in that struggle?”

The deep red veins in the old general’s face stood out, but he gave no other sign.

“You prefer, then,” he said, “to become a charge upon our German hospitality.  But I can say that your refusal will not make terms harder for you.  Lieutenant von Arnheim, take him back to the other prisoners.”

“Thank you, sir,” said John, and he gave the military salute.  He could understand the old man’s point of view, rough and gruff though he was, and he was not lacking in a certain respect for him.  The general punctiliously returned the salute.

“You’ve made a good impression,” said von Arnheim, as they walked away together.

“I gather,” said John, “from a reference by the general, that you’re a prince.”

Von Arnheim looked embarrassed.

“In a way I am,” he admitted, “but ours is a mediatized house.  Perhaps it doesn’t count for much.  Still, if it hadn’t been for this war I might have gone to your country and married an heiress.”

His eyes were twinkling.  Here, John thought was a fine fellow beyond question.

“Perhaps you can come after the war and marry one,” he said.  “Personally I hope you’ll have the chance.”

“Thanks,” said von Arnheim, a bit wistfully, “but I’m afraid now it will be a long time, if ever.  I need not seek to conceal from you that we were turned back today.  You know it already.”