business--in Monsieur le Consul's case it becomes a pleasure--to know
everything."

"Did your Department know that the real Karl Schwartz has returned?"
said the consul dryly.

Captain Christian shrugged his shoulders. "Then it appears that the sham
Karl died none too soon," he said lightly. "And yet"--he bent his eyes
with mischievous reproach upon the consul.

"Yet what?" demanded the consul sternly.

"Monsieur le Consul might have saved the unfortunate man by accepting
him as an American citizen and not helping to force him into the German
service."

The consul saw in a flash the full military significance of this logic,
and could not repress a smile. At which Captain Christian dropped easily
into a chair beside him, and as easily into broken German English:--

"Und," he went on, "dees town--dees Schlachtstadt is fine town, eh? Fine
womens? Goot men? Und peer and sausage? Blenty to eat and trink, eh? Und
you und te poys haf a gay times?"

The consul tried to recover his dignity. The waiter behind him,
recognizing only the delightful mimicry of this adorable officer, was in
fits of laughter. Nevertheless, the consul managed to say dryly:--

"And the barracks, the magazines, the commissariat, the details, the
reserves of Schlachtstadt were very interesting?"