at.

He waved his cap to the battery; then he lowered his hands, while the
eyes of the onlookers followed in suspense his every movement.

He let down the grey drill trousers; and there in the full blaze of the
morning sunshine he went through a certain performance which even the
Scythians--suggesting though they did to Greek art the original
conception of the centaur--could certainly not have achieved without
descending from horseback.

If Plettau, like Janus, had had eyes in the back of his head, down
below in the parade-ground he would have seen an array of wide-open
eyes and gaping mouths.

After a short interval he arose, picked up a big piece of white
cardboard from the ground, and pointed to it as he brandished it in the
air. Then he laid it down again, and once more he yodelled gaily:
"Holdrio--yoho--yoho--hoho--o--o!" He then bowed politely, and vanished
precipitately among the bushes.

Down on the parade-ground every one was speechless. The men looked
sheepish; they longed to burst into peals of laughter, but were afraid
of getting into trouble. So they took great pains not to commit
themselves, and tried to look as if something perfectly ordinary had
been happening.

Wegstetten was beside himself with anger and resentment. "I beg you
will allow me, sir," he said to the colonel, "to send a couple of
non-commissioned officers to arrest that fellow. This is an unheard-of
insult to the whole army--a scandal a disgrace!"

Falkenhein's lips twitched. He, too, thought this piece of impudence
quite beyond a joke. But he held the same opinion as did the Grand Duke
of Oldenburg concerning _lese-majeste_: that the insult of a fool is no
insult.

"Be calm, my dear Wegstetten," he said. "Let your count take himself
off. But you had better just send some one up there--one of the
non-coms, upon whom you can rely--to fetch down that placard before any
of the men can get hold of it. Who knows what impertinence the fellow
may not have scrawled?"

Corporal von Frielinghausen was charged with the mission, and ascended
the hillside. The exercises were begun meanwhile.

Frielinghausen found the piece of cardboard neatly placed against a
bank beside the last traces of Count Egon Plettau. Carrying the placard
with its back carefully turned to the battery, he descended the slope
again, and returned to the three officers. With the tips of his fingers
the colonel took the document from him. The inscription was short
enoug