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He would always go his way alone. The girl turned her head. Seeing Grumbach, she loosened the vintner's hand. "Do not mind me, girl," said Grumbach, his face broadening. The girl laughed easily and without confusion. Her companion, however, flushed under his tan, and a scowl ran over his forehead. The band struck up, and the little comedy was forgotten.
It was older, more wrinkled, but it was the same. How many years had the old fellow swung the baton? At least thirty years. In his boyhood days Grumbach had put that brilliant uniform side by side with the grand duke's. As it was impossible for him ever to become a duke, his ambition had been to arrive at the next greatest thing the bandmaster.
"You would not call him a lady's man, if you mean he wastes his time on them." "But you say he dances?" "Ach, Gott! Don't we all dance to some tune or other?" cried the waiter philosophically. "You are right; different music, different jigs. Take the coppers." "Thanks, Herr." The waiter continued his work. So Herr Carmichael lived here. That would be convenient. Grumbach decided to wait for him.
"But there's one thing, my boy," said Carmichael. "What's that?" "The odds were on our side, or we'd be fighting yet." "That we would. The poor devils were always hungry when we whipped them badly." "But you're from this side of the water?" "Yes; went over when I was twenty-two." Grumbach sucked his pipe stolidly. "What part of Germany?" "Bavaria; it is so written in my passports." "Munich?"
Then he went to the drawer again and returned with the counterparts. He laid them side by side. The likeness was perfect in all details. "Carmichael," he said, "will you please help me? My eyes are growing old. Do I see these things, or do I not? And if I do, which is mine, and what does this signify?" The tremor in his voice was audible. Grumbach answered. "This, Highness.
He saw that the chancellor was watching Grumbach as a cat watches a mouse-hole. Grumbach brought forth a bulky wallet. The edges of Bank of England notes could be seen, of fat denominations. "Here it is, your Excellency; a little ragged, but readable still." The chancellor went over it carefully. "Herr Captain, do you know this compatriot?" "We fought side by side in the American war.
"Grumbach is as good as another. Listen. You are my comrade now; we have shed our blood on the same field. There is no tie stronger than that. When I left Dreiberg there was a reward of a thousand crowns for me. Dead or alive, preferably dead." Carmichael was plainly bewildered. He tried to recall the past history of Ehrenstein which would offer a niche for this inoffensive-looking German.
He would seek her and talk to her and smile at her even if the duke threw a regiment in between. The Irish blood in him burned to-night, capable of any folly. He no longer danced. He waited and watched; and it was during one of these waits that he saw Grumbach in the gallery. "Now, what the devil is the Dutchman doing with a pair of opera-glasses!"
They were both thinking of the same thing, but from avenues diametrically opposed. Grumbach declined Carmichael's invitation to lunch, and immediately sought his own room. Once there, he closed the shutters so as to admit but half the day's light, and opened his battered trunk. From the false bottom, which had successfully eluded the vigilance of a dozen frontiers, he took out a small bundle.
"It is a great country, full of great ideas and great men, Highness." "And you will go back?" "Soon, Highness." The mare, knowing that this was the way home, grew restive and began prancing and pawing the road. She reined in quickly. As she did so, something yellow flashed downward and tinkled as it struck the ground. Grumbach hastened forward. "My locket," said her highness anxiously.
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