Part 18 (1/2)
”The American prisoner, sir,” said von Arnheim in English to the general.
The old man concentrated the stare of his small red eyes upon John for many long seconds. The young American felt the weight and power of that gaze. He knew too instinctively that the man before him was a great fighter, a true representative of the German military caste and system.
He longed to turn his own eyes away, but he resolutely held them steady.
He would not be looked down, not even by an old Prussian general to whom the fate of a hundred thousand was nothing.
”Very well, Your Highness, you may stand aside,” said the general in a deep harsh voice.
Out of the corner of his eye John saw that the man who stood aside was von Arnheim. ”Your Highness!” Then this young lieutenant must be a prince. If so, some princes were likable. Wharton and Carstairs and he had outwitted a prince once, but it could not be von Arnheim. He turned his full gaze back to the general, who continued in his deep gruff voice, speaking perfect English:
”I understand that you are an American and your name is John Scott.”
”And duly enrolled and uniformed in the French service,” said John, ”You can't shoot me as a _franc tireur_.”
”We could shoot you for anything, if we wished, but such is not our purpose. I have heard from a captain of Uhlans, Rudolf von Boehlen, a most able and valuable officer, that you are brave and alert.”
”I thank Captain von Boehlen for his compliment. I did not expect it from him.”
”Ah, he bears you no malice. We Germans are large enough to admire skill and courage in others. He has spoken of the affair of the wireless. It cost us much, but it belongs to the past. We will achieve what we wish.”
John was silent. He believed that these preliminaries on the part of the old general were intended to create an atmosphere, a belief in his mind that German power was invincible.
”We have withdrawn a portion of our force today,” continued the general, ”in order to rectify our line. Our army had advanced too far. Tomorrow we resume our march on Paris.”
John felt that it was an extraordinary statement for an old man, one of such high rank, the commander of perhaps a quarter of a million soldiers, to be making to him, a young American, but he held his peace, awaiting what lay behind it all.
”Now you are a captive,” continued the general, ”you will be sent to a prison, and you will be held there until the end of the war. You will necessarily suffer much. We cannot help it. Yet you might be sent to your own country. Americans and Germans are not enemies. I know from Captain von Boehlen who took you that you have been in an aeroplane with a Frenchman. Some account of what you saw from s.p.a.ce might help your departure for America.”
And so that was it! Now the prisoner's eye steadily confronted that of the old general.
”Your Highness,” he said, as he thought that the old man might be a prince as well as a general, ”you have read the history of the great civil war in my country, have you not?”
”It was a part of my military duty to study it. It was a long and desperate struggle with many great battles, but what has it to do with the present?”
”Did you ever hear of any traitor on either side, North or South, in that struggle?”
The deep red veins in the old general's face stood out, but he gave no other sign.
”You prefer, then,” he said, ”to become a charge upon our German hospitality. But I can say that your refusal will not make terms harder for you. Lieutenant von Arnheim, take him back to the other prisoners.”
”Thank you, sir,” said John, and he gave the military salute. He could understand the old man's point of view, rough and gruff though he was, and he was not lacking in a certain respect for him. The general punctiliously returned the salute.
”You've made a good impression,” said von Arnheim, as they walked away together.
”I gather,” said John, ”from a reference by the general, that you're a prince.”
Von Arnheim looked embarra.s.sed.
”In a way I am,” he admitted, ”but ours is a mediatized house. Perhaps it doesn't count for much. Still, if it hadn't been for this war I might have gone to your country and married an heiress.”
His eyes were twinkling. Here, John thought was a fine fellow beyond question.