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Lieutenant von Arnheim rode back and ordered the guards to march on with them. There was none too severely wounded to walk and they proceeded in a file through the fields, Uhlans on all sides, but the great mass behind them, where their commander, von Boehlen, himself rode. The night was almost at hand.
He recognized von Boehlen and von Boehlen recognized him. Shouting, the Prussian urged his horse at him and struck him with the saber. John, under impulse, dropped to his knees, and the heavy blade whistled above him. But something else struck him on the head and he fell senseless to the earth. John Scott came slowly out of the darkness and hovered for a while between dusk and light.
John even found it in his heart to respect him, as he returned the steady gaze of the blue eyes with a look equally as firm. "I hope," said John, "that you will send back Mademoiselle Lannes and the nurses with her to her people. I take it that you're not making war upon women." Von Boehlen gave Julie a quick glance of curiosity and admiration.
Then Picard promptly raised his rifle and shot him through the heart. When von Boehlen fell dead in the road his hussars halted and while they were hesitating Picard shot the horses of two under them, while a third received a bullet in the shoulder.
The belief was too firmly imbedded in his mind ever to be removed that men like Auersperg and the mad power for which they stood had set the torch to Europe. "Captain von Boehlen took some prisoners, Your Highness," said von Arnheim, "and as he was compelled to continue on his expedition he has sent them here under the escort of Lieutenant Puttkamer.
But his courage came back when he saw that he would not have known the Prussian had he remained twenty feet away. Von Boehlen was deeply tanned and much thinner. There were lines in his face and he had all the appearance of a man who had been through almost unbearable hardships. John had no doubt that a long life in the trenches and intense anxiety had made an equal change in himself.
As von Boehlen resumed his approach to the house he passed from John's range of vision, and then the prisoner watched the horizon for anything that he might see. Twice he beheld the far flare of searchlights, but nobody else came to the château, and the night darkened somewhat. No rattle of arms or stamp of hoofs came from the hussars in the grounds, and he judged that all but the sentinels slept.
It was not humor exactly, but it was the innate desire to make the best of a bad situation. "I'm in your hands," he replied, "but I didn't walk willingly into 'em. Your lieutenant, von Arnheim here, and his men brought me on the points of their lances. I'm quite willing to go away again." Von Boehlen recognized the spirit in the reply and the malice departed from his own eyes.
"We could shoot you for anything, if we wished, but such is not our purpose. I have heard from a captain of Uhlans, Rudolf von Boehlen, a most able and valuable officer, that you are brave and alert." "I thank Captain von Boehlen for his compliment. I did not expect it from him." "Ah, he bears you no malice. We Germans are large enough to admire skill and courage in others.
Von Boehlen was wounded slightly, but he stood erect as he saluted the commander and talked with him briefly and rapidly. John's busy and imaginative mind was at work at once with surmises, and he settled upon one which he was sure must be the truth. The French advance in the center was coming, and this German army also must soon go into action.
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