that your sympathy is less for this
hulking peasant and more for the fair face of the lady whom he serves."

John saw Julie's face flush a deep red, and his hand stole down to his
belt, but no weapon was there. Von Arnheim's face reddened also, but he
stood at attention before his superior officer and replied with dignity:

"I admire Mademoiselle Lannes, although I have known her only ten
minutes, but I think, Your Highness, that my admiration is warranted,
and also that it is not lacking in respect."

"Good for you, von Arnheim," said John, under his breath. But the
medieval mind of Auersperg was not disturbed. The slow, cruel smile
passed across his face again.

"You are brave my Wilhelm," he said, "but I am confirmed in my opinion
that some of our princely houses have become tainted. The harm that was
done when Napoleon smashed his way through Europe has never been undone.
The touch of the democracy was defilement, and it does not pass. Do you
think our ancestors would have wasted so much time over a miserable
French peasant?"

This was a long speech, much too long for the circumstances, John
thought, but von Arnheim still standing stiffly at attention, merely
said:

"Your Highness I ask this man's life of you. He is not a _franc tireur_
in the real sense."

"Since you make it a personal matter, my brave young Wilhelm, I yield.
Let him be held a prisoner, but no more requests of the same kind. This
is positively the last time I shall yield to such a weakness."

"Thank you, Your Highness," said von Arnheim. Julie gave him one
flashing look of gratitude and stepped away from Picard, who had stood,
his arms folded across his chest, refusing to utter a single word for
mercy. "This indeed," thought John "is a man." Suzanne was near, and now
both he and his daughter turned away relaxing in no wise their looks of
grim resolution. "Here also is a woman as well as a man," thought John.

"I hope, Your Highness, that I may assign Mademoiselle Lannes and her
maid to one of the upper rooms," said von Arnheim in tones respectful,
but very firm. "Here also is another man," thought John.

"You may," said Auersperg shortly, "but let the peasant be sent to the
stables, where the other prisoners are kept."

Two soldiers were called and they took Picard away. Julie and Suzanne
followed von Arnheim to a stairway, and John was left alone with
medievalism. The man wore no armor, but when only they two stood in the
room his fe