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Prince Karl is a hard and stern man, and he would bend her to his will, but the Prince Wilhelm frowned upon them all, and the Count Kratzek was also most respectful." "They had brought her to complete their triumph and instead the triumph was hers," John could not keep from saying. "It is so," admitted Ilse.
It implied that the man stooped, and that the woman surrendered something no real wife could yield. Julie, whose blood was the blood of the great republican marshal, would never submit to such a wrong. John presently saw someone standing on the steps of the terrace, and as he turned with the horse, he beheld a wild and jealous face. It was young Kratzek, and he was watching Auersperg and Julie.
"Now, Kratzek, lie back again and we'll spread these blankets over you." The young Austrian smiled. "I've fallen into very good company," he said. John, whose character was serious, felt some sadness as he looked at him. He remembered those gay Viennese who had set the torch of the great war, and how merry they were over it with their visions of quick victory and glory.
While John was at the stables young Kratzek sent for his horse, and John, after his custom, led the animal to him. He had long since ceased to fear discovery by the Austrian, and his immunity made him careless, or it may be that Kratzek's eyes were uncommonly keen that day.
And there was young Kratzek, who he knew had been exchanged. Some chance might make him, too, enter the inn, but John's second thought told him the fulfillment of his wish would be folly. They were his official enemies and must seize him if he made himself known to them. He was merely lonesome, longing for the sight of a familiar face.
"I have premonitions, too, often, but they're invariably wrong. Now, I see an orderly coming. I hope he hasn't a message from Captain Colton for us to prowl around in the snow somewhere." Happily, the message released them from further duty that night and bade them seek rest. Young Kratzek was lying in John's bed and was sleeping.
He was in truth handsome with a delicate fairness one did not see often among the Germans, who were generally cast in a sterner mold. "And I am Leopold Kratzek," he replied in good English. "Kratzek," said John. "Ah, you're an Austrian. Now I remember there's an Austrian field-marshal of that name." "He is my father but he is in the East.
While he was thinking about it, the convalescent came, a young officer, trim, slender, in a fine uniform of blue and silver. It was none other than that same lad, Leopold Kratzek, whom he had saved in the fight at the trench. In his surprise John came very near to greeting him by name, but luckily he controlled himself in time. He noticed that Kratzek was almost entirely recovered.
I never saw you before, and I believe you are the peasant you seem to be." Kratzek gave him one look of intense curiosity, then sprang upon his horse, and rode away, never looking back. "There goes a true man," thought John, as he returned to the stable.
He watched Kratzek riding down the mountain until the firs and pines hid him, and then, as he turned to go back to the stables, he found the two maids near him, a little forward, and yet a little shy, but wholly curious about the handsome young stranger.
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