Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 12, 2025
A guard had first picked him up, then a kind-hearted man named Scharfenstein had taken him in charge, advertised for his parents and, hearing nothing, had taken him to America with him. "If they catch you," she interrupted, "do not under any consideration let them know that you were not born in the United States. Your friend the American consul could do nothing for you then."
The vintner chuckled softly as he scribbled this note: "If Herr Carmichael would learn the secret of number forty Krumerweg, let him attire himself as a vintner and be in the Krumerweg at eight o'clock to-night." "So there is a trap, and I am to beware of a mountaineer, a carter, a butcher, and a baker? Thanks, Scharfenstein, my friend, thanks! You are watching over me."
Now tell me how 'tis to be played." "Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?" "Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein " "Will as usual remain at the carriage.
"Any time will do," he said. "Ah, he opens his eyes." The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him... was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here? "Who put you up to this?" demanded Maurice. "You are choking me!" "Who, I say?" "Beauvais." Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively. "Who is this Beauvais? Speak!"
A prince! He was a prince; he, Max Scharfenstein, cow-boy, quarter-back, trooper, doctor, was a prince! If it was a dream, he was going to box the ears of the bell-boy who woke him up. But it wasn't a dream; he knew it wasn't. The girl yonder didn't dissolve into mist and disappear; she was living, living.
"I'll be in the saddle at dawn. All I need is a couple of hours between sheets." As I prodded my pillow into a comfortable wad under my cheek I wondered where I had seen that particular brand. It was a brand. I knew that I had seen it somewhere, but my memory danced away when I endeavored to halter it. Soon I fell asleep, dreaming of somebody who wasn't Max Scharfenstein, by a long shot.
With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver, but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which were marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired range.
Scharfenstein gravely bent his head and kissed it. "Good-by, Prince Charming!" she whispered, so softly that Max scarcely heard her. Then she entered the closed carriage and was driven up the dark, tree-enshrouded road that led to the Castle of Doppelkinn. "What are you going to do with me?" Max asked, as he gathered up the reins of his mount. "That we shall discuss later.
He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb and forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horse lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him. The race had come to an end. At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the great forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein started in pursuit of the latter.
Max wondered where the chill in the room came from. "He says that his name is Scharfenstein," continued the princess, "and he has proved himself to be a courteous gentleman." Max found that the room wasn't so chill as it might have been. "Yet you eloped with him, and were on the way to Dresden," suggested the duke pointedly. The princess faced them all proudly. "I eloped with no man.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking