sort of thing."

"I know, Sybil. I know. They are laughing in England to-day at Roberts
and Charlie Beresford. But I know Germany and the German mind and the
German aim and purpose, and I confess to you that I am in a horrible
funk at the state of things in our country. And this chap Switzer--you
say he has been in Germany for two years? Well, he has every mark
characteristic of the German. He reproduces the young German that I have
seen the world over--in Germany, in the Crown Prince's coterie (don't
I know them?), in South Africa, in West Africa, in China. He has every
mark, the same military style, the same arrogant self-assertion, the
same brutal disregard of the ordinary decencies."

"Why, Jack, how you talk! You are actually excited."

"Did you not notice his manner with that girl? He calmly took possession
of her and ignored us who were of her party, actually isolated her from
us."

"But, Jack, this seems to me quite outrageous."

"Yes, Sybil, and there are more like you. But I happen to know from
experience what I am talking about. The elementary governing principle
of life for the young German of to-day is very simple and is easily
recognised, and it is this: when you see anything you want, go for it
and take it, no matter if all the decencies of life are outraged."

"Jack, I cannot, frankly, I cannot agree with you in regard to young
Switzer. I know him fairly well and--"

"Let's not talk about it, Sybil," said her brother, quietly.

"Oh, all right, Jack."

They rode on in silence, Romayne gloomily keeping his eye on the
trail before him until they neared the Gwynne gate, when the young man
exclaimed abruptly:

"My God, it would be a crime!"

"Whatever do you mean, Jack?"

"To allow that brute to get possession of that lovely girl."

"But, Jack," persisted his sister. "Brute?"

"Sybil, I have seen them with women, their own and other women; and,
now listen to me, I have yet to see the German who regards or treats
his frau as an English gentleman treats his wife. That is putting it
mildly."

"Oh, Jack!"

"It ought to be stopped."

"Well, stop it then."

"I wish to God I could," said her brother.

CHAPTER VIII

YOU FORGOT ME

The Lakeside House, substantially built of logs, with "frame" kitchen
attached, stood cosily among the clump of trees, poplar and spruce,
locally described as a bluff. The bluff ran down to the little lake
a hundred yards away, itself an expansion of Wolf