Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 18, 2025
Grahame had managed to get clear of the other wagon now and was driving out into the pasture, almost obscured by rifle smoke. "Oh, Jack!" faltered Lorraine "it is Rickerl!" It was Rickerl, stunned by the fall from his horse, lying back between them. "They'd kill him if they saw his uniform!" muttered Jack. "Hark! the French are cheering! They've repulsed the charge!
Rickerl looked pleased; perspiration stood on his blond eyebrows and his broad face glowed. "As an officer of cavalry in the Prussian army," he said, "and as an attaché of the German Embassy in Paris, I suggest that we return to first principles and rejoin our base of supplies." "He's thirsty," said Molly, gravely. "Row, Ricky!" urged Sir Thorald; "they will leave nothing for Uhlan foragers!"
In a moment they were running side by side up the river-bottom, hidden from the view of the franc-tireurs. "Do as I do," panted Jack. "Throw your sabre away and follow me. It's our last chance." But Rickerl clung to his sabre and ran on. And now the park wall rose right in their path, seeming to block all progress. "We can't get over it's ended," gasped Rickerl.
Rickerl von Elster bent his head and laid a gloved hand lightly on her own. "I am very unhappy," he said, simply. "May we not speak of other things?" "Yes, Ricky," she said, faintly. He looked almost handsome there in the moonlight, but under his evening dress the square build of the Prussian trooper, the rigid back, and sturdy limbs were perhaps too apparent for ideal civilian elegance.
And now they came to the edge of the long field, beyond which stretched another patch of stubble. The straw-stack stood half-way up the slope. "Here's your sabre," motioned Jack. He was exhausted and reeled about in the stubble, but Rickerl passed one arm about him, and, sabre clutched in the other hand, aided him to the straw-stack.
He saluted, and, looking straight into Rickerl's eyes, said, "Zum Befehl, Herr Hauptmann! I am at your convenience also." "When you please!" shouted Rickerl, crimson with fury. "Retire!"
"This is not the place nor is this the time to judge your prisoners," said Rickerl, pushing his horse up to Von Steyr and scowling down into his face. "Who called this drum-head court? Is that your province? Oh, in my absence? Well, then, I am here! Do you see me?" The insult fell like the sting of a lash across Von Steyr's face.
But in that brief instant he had seen, among the galloping cavalrymen, a mounted figure, bareheaded, wearing a white shirt, and he knew that Rickerl was riding for his life. Sick at heart he peered into the straight, low rampart of smoke; he watched the spirts of rifle-flame piercing it; he saw it turn blacker when a cannon bellowed in the increasing din.
For this war is nearly ended, Jack, nearly ended a battle or two, a siege or two, nothing more. What can stand against us? Not this bewildered France." Jack was silent. Rickerl's blue eyes sought his; he rested his square chin on one hand and spoke again: "Jack, do you know that that I love your sister?" "Her last letter said as much," replied Jack, coldly. Rickerl watched his face.
"And you called off your bloody pack of hangmen for me," said Jack; "I'm devilish grateful, Ricky indeed I am and you know I'd be glad to have you in the family if if it wasn't for this cursed war. Never mind, Dorothy generally has what she wants, even if it's " "Even if it's an Uhlan?" suggested Rickerl, gravely. Jack smiled and laid his hand on Rickerl's arm.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking