Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
Phyllis wrote me that she thought the book "just splendid"; but I took her praise with a grain of salt, it being likely that she was partial to the author, and that the real worth of the book was little in comparison with the fact that it was I who wrote it. One morning in early June I found three letters on my desk. The first was from Hillars. He was in Vienna.
Hillars was a wild-headed fellow, and, if at liberty, was not incapable of creating a disturbance. It might land him in jail, or on the gallows. The phlegmatic German is not particular whom he hangs. In that wide domain there is always some petty revolution going on.
You see, those fellows moved me around to-day." Hillars and I stood in the middle of the road. He held the binoculars. "How many can you make out?" I asked. "Four; all on horseback. There's a coach of some sort following on behind. But everything is blurred and my hand trembles; the whiskey here is terrible. Here, look for yourself," handing the glasses to me. "Tell me what you see."
"My remarks, most noble and puissant Count," said Hillars, bowing, satirically, to the neck of his horse, "I shall confine to the still more noble and puissant Prince of Wortumborg." "This is an unappreciated honor," sneered the Prince. "So it is," replied Hillars, lightly. "When an honest man speaks to you he is conferring an honor upon you which you, as you say, cannot appreciate.
When his eyes grew accustomed to the semi-darkness of the room, the Count sounded a note of satisfaction. "Ah! so you are here? You have given me a devil of a chase." "I return the compliment, Herr General," said Hillars, with a good-humored smile. "But, may I ask, what the devil have you been chasing me for?" For reply the Count turned to the cavalryman. "Arrest that man and bind him," he said.
The two cavalrymen thrust their sabres into the scabbards with a clank, and made as though to follow. "Wait," said Gretchen. "I shall have need of you. You will escort me to the station. Now you may go." They saluted gravely. They appreciated the situation. The Princess was their bread and butter. "Your Highness," said Hillars, "there has been a mistake."
Hillars laid his smoking pipe in the ash pan. He got up and roamed about the room, stopped at the window and stared at the inken sky, then returned to his chair. I shall tell Hillars's story as he told it. He said: Last August I went to B . My mission was important and took me to the British Legation, where I am well known.
I had forgotten for the moment the Princess, or that I was hunting for Hillars. It is strange how a face may upset one's plans. Gretchen's likeness to Phyllis, whom I loved, upset mine for many days to come. As I gazed from my window the next morning I beheld the old innkeeper and Gretchen engaged in earnest conversation.
"We have them still," said I. "It is not the men, but the opportunities, which are lacking." "Perhaps that is so. Yet, it is the great man who makes them." I was thinking of Hillars. "I would give a good deal for a regiment and a bad moment for our side." There was no mighty column in his memory, scarcely a roll of earth. "What do you want to do?" I asked.
What is her Serene Highness to you?" "She is everything in the world to me," said I. The consternation which followed cannot be described here. The Count stepped back, dumb-founded. Hillars regarded me as though he thought I had suddenly gone mad. The countenance of the Prince alone remained unruffled.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking