r. "No, I've not forgotten. And, so that
you shan't forget, I've got it written down for you!"

He fished a card from the breast-pocket of his blue shirt. The Baron
received it, and held it up to the light.

"Captain Graf von Specht, the Kaiserjaeger," he read aloud. "Ever
hear of him, Von Wetten?"

Von Wetten nodded. "Neighbor of mine in the country, Excellenz," he
replied. "We were at the cadet-school together. Colonel now; promoted
during the war. He would regret, I am sure."

"He will regret, I am sure," interrupted the Baron, pocketing the
card. "And he will have good cause. Well, Herr Bettermann, I think I
know your terms now. You want to see the Graf von Specht again here?
I am right, am I not?"

Bettermann's eyes narrowed at him. "Yes," he said. "You're right.
Only this time it is he that must bring the whip!"

Herr Haase's intelligence, following like a shorthand-writer's
pencil, ten words behind the speaker, gave a leap at this. Till now,
the matter had been for him a play without a plot; suddenly
understanding, he cast a startled glance at Von Wetten.

The captain sat up alert.

"Certainly!" The old baron was replying to young Bettermann. "And
stand to attention! And salute! I told you that I would agree to your
terms, and I agree accordingly. Captain that is, Colonel von Specht
shall be here, with the whip, as soon as the telegraph and the train
can bring him. And then, I assume, the machine."

"Pardon!" Captain von Wetten had risen. "I have not understood." He
came forward between the two, very erect and military, and rather
splendid with his high-held head and drilled comeliness of body.
"There has been much elegance of talk and I am stupid, no doubt; but,
in plain German, what is it that Colonel von Specht is to do?"

Bettermann swooped at him again, choking with words; the captain
stood like a monument callous to his white and stammering rage, the
personification and symbol of his caste and its privilege.

It was the Baron who answered from his seat on the parapet, not
varying his tone and measured delivery.

"Colonel von Specht," he said, "is to bring a whip here and stand to
attention while Herr Bettermann cuts him over the face with it. That
is all. Now sit down and be silent."

Captain von Wetten did not move. "This is impossible," he said.
"There are limits. As a German officer, I resent the mere suggestion
of this insult to the corps of officers. Your Excellency."

The Baron lifte