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Updated: June 11, 2025
"I don't know any more than Armitage, and Baron von Marhof and my father, and the Honorable Secretary of State, to say nothing of the equally Honorable Secretary of War." Claiborne stretched out his arms and rested them along the shelf of the mantel, and smiled with a smile which the dirt on his face weirdly accented.
"I'd like to hold a little private execution for this," growled the officer. "A little lower and it would have caught you in the heart." "Don't be spiteful! I'm as sound as wheat. We have them down and the victory is ours. The great fun is to come when the good Baron von Marhof gets here. If I were dying I believe I could hold on for that." "You're not going to die, thank God!
"Then I should say that you oughtn't to quarrel with a dear old man like Baron von Marhof. Besides, he's your uncle." "No! No! I don't want him to be my uncle! I don't need any uncle!" He glanced about with an anxiety that made her laugh. "I understand perfectly! My father told me that the events of April in these hills were not to be mentioned. But don't worry; the sheep won't tell and I won't."
A king's coronation would not be out of place, in fact, there's a chair in the corner against that Gobelin that would serve the situation. The old gentleman by that cabinet is the Baron von Marhof, the Ambassador from Austria-Hungary. He's a brother-in-law of Count von Stroebel, who was murdered so horribly in a railway carriage a few weeks ago." "Ah, to be sure! I haven't seen the Baron in years.
In some mystification Captain Richard Claiborne packed a suit-case in his quarters at Fort Myer. Being a soldier, he obeyed orders; but being human, he was also possessed of a degree of curiosity. He did not know just the series of incidents and conferences that preceded his summons to Washington, but they may be summarized thus: Baron von Marhof was a cautious man.
Baron von Marhof, very handsome and distinguished, but mud-splashed, had tied his horse to a post in the driveway, and stood on the veranda steps, his hat in his hand, staring, a look of bewilderment on his face.
I will suggest, however, that the presence just now in the West Indies, of the cruiser Sophia Margaret, flying the flag of Austria-Hungary, may be suggestive." He smiled at the quick glance that passed between the Ambassador and Judge Claiborne. Then Baron von Marhof blurted out the question that was uppermost in the minds of all. "Who are you, John Armitage?"
I never expected anything like this not on my cheerfulest days. Dearest Jules is out looking for a telegraph office to pull off the Austrian end of the rumpus. Well, little good it will do him! And we'll catch him and Durand and that Servian devil and lock them up here till Marhof decides what to do with him. We're off!" "All ready, sir;" said Oscar briskly. "It's half-past two.
Chauvenet staggered to his feet and his voice choked as he muttered his appeal. "Not Marhof!" "We can fix this among ourselves just wait a little, till we can talk over our affairs. You have quite the wrong impression of us, I assure you, Messieurs," protested Durand. "That is your misfortune! Thanks for the brandy, Monsieur Durand.
I want you to ride down there in the valley and keep Marhof quiet for a few hours; tell him I know more of what's going on in Vienna than he does, and that if he will only sit in a rocking-chair and tell you fairy stories till morning, we can all be happy. Is it a bargain or must I still hang your head down the well till I get through?" "Marhof may go to the devil!
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