ut
premeditated neglect.

"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old
age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to be
a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;
a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man
is useful; in a woman it is unmanageable." He refilled his pipe and
motioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and
held it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It's
a dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's
antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And with this
he fell into silence.

Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at
it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway,
and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment
later the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of
them--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third between
them. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and
white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side
to side, almost insensibly.

"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this
unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. "What's this?
Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"

"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly.
"Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it."

"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice.

The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice.
"Riemer," he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from the
mess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,
a basin of cold water. Quick!"

Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood
collected on the floor.

"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." He
turned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. "What has
happened, Max?"

Scharfenstein briefly explained.

"And Kopf?"

"Got away, curse him!"

"And the others?" with a lowering brow.

"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin
on the floor.

"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"

"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier," Maurice interposed.

Max threw him a grateful look.

"Humph!" The Captain called his men a