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Updated: July 1, 2025
You know what that hunger is." "Yes. I shall go home as often as possible now. I always stop a few days in London." "Then I shall expect to see you; perhaps during the holidays. I am determined to leave Barscheit before the duke changes his mind. Heavens, he may put me in prison!" "I doubt that."
As I said, I was in a hurry." "You said nothing this morning about going away from Barscheit." "Neither did you." Another pause. "You told me that you were in Barscheit to study nerves," wickedly. "So thought I, up to half-past nine to-night; but it appears that I am not," gloomily. "You are running away, too?" with suppressed eagerness. "Running away, too!" he repeated. "Are you running away?"
It takes little to arouse it, but a great deal to allay it." "You have not summoned me to make smart speeches, simply because I have been educated up to them?" truculently. "No. I have not summoned you to talk smart, a word much in evidence in Barscheit since your return from England. For once I am going to use a woman's prerogative. I have changed my mind."
This is not to advance the opinion that Barscheit was wholly modern; far from it. The fault of Barscheit may be traced back to a certain historical pillar of salt, easily recalled by all those who attended Sunday-school. "Rubbering" is a vulgar phrase, and I disdain to use it.
It meets my needs and purposes, however, to say that Berlin and Vienna were easily accessible, and that a three hours' journey would bring you under the shadow of the Carpathian Range, where, in my diplomatic days, I used often to hunt the "bear that walks like a man." Barscheit was known among her sister states as "the meddler," the "maker of trouble," and the duke as "Old Grumpy" Brummbär.
Didn't she scandalize the nobility by dressing up as a hussar and riding her famous black Mecklenburg cross-country? Hadn't she flirted outrageously with the French attaché and deliberately turned her back on the Russian minister, at the very moment, too, when negotiations were going on between Russia and Barscheit relative to a small piece of land in the Balkans?
"Colonel, on the word of a princess, this gentleman is in no wise concerned. I ran away alone." Max breathed easier. "I should be most happy to believe your Highness, but you will honor my strict observance of orders." He passed a telegram to her. Search train for Doppelkinn. Princess has eloped. Arrest and hold pair till I arrive on special engine. Barscheit.
"Will it be asking too much of you to aid me in leaving Barscheit to-night? There is a train at one o'clock for Dresden." "Leave Barscheit?" My heart sank dismally. "Oh," with a smile, "the world is small and England is even smaller." "I shall have to give up the consulate," gravely. She laughed. "I shall be in England for something more than a year. Truthfully, I hunger for mine own people.
We had come to the relishes when a party of four officers took the table nearest us. They hung up their sabers on the wall-pegs, and sat down, ordering a bottle of light wine. Usually there were five chairs to the table, but even if only two were being used no one had the right to withdraw one of the vacant chairs without the most elaborate apologies. This is the law of courtesy in Barscheit.
"Who do you suppose this fellow is?" Gretchen asked. "He says he is an American, and I believe he is. What Americans are in Barscheit?" "I know of none at all. What shall we do to get rid of him?" All this was carried on with unstudied rudeness.
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