"I'm coming along. I've a train to catch," replied His Excellency,
springing into the car. "No more wool-gathering, eh?" he said, giving
Lanstron a pat on the shoulder. To Lanstron this pat meant another
chance.

"Good-by!" he called to the young girl, who was still watching him with
big, sympathetic eyes. "I am coming back soon and land in the field,
there, and when I do. I'll claim a bunch of flowers."

"Do! What fun!" she cried, as the car started.

"The field-marshal was Partow, their chief of staff?" Westerling asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Galland. "I remember when he was a young infantry
officer before the last war, before he had won the iron cross and become
so great. He was not of an army family--a doctor's son, but very clever
and skilful."

"Getting a little old for his work!" remarked Westerling. "But
apparently he is keen enough to take a personal interest in anything
new."

"Wasn't it thrilling and--and terrible!" Marta exclaimed.

"Yes, like war at our own door again," replied Mrs. Galland, who knew
war. She had seen war raging on the pass road. "Lanstron, the young man
said his name was," she resumed after a pause. "No doubt the Lanstrons
of Thorbourg. An old family and many of them in the army."