am
the provost marshal; all complaints should be brought to me."

I took the printed sheet and looked at the Prussian coat of arms.

"A list of the inhabitants of Morsbronn will be made to-day. You will
have the goodness to declare yourself--and you also, madame. There
being other buildings better fitted, no soldiers will be quartered in
this house."

The officer evidently mistook me for the owner of the house and not a
prisoner. A blanket hid my hussar trousers and boots; he could only
see my ragged shirt.

"And now, madame," he continued, "as monsieur appears to need the
services of a physician, I shall send him a French doctor, brought in
this morning from the Chateau de la Trappe. I wish him to get well; I
wish the inhabitants of my district to return to their homes and
resume the interrupted regimes which have made this province of Alsace
so valuable to France. I wish Morsbronn to prosper; I wish it well.
This is the German policy.

"But, monsieur, let me speak plainly. I tolerate no treachery. The
law is iron and will be applied with rigor. An inhabitant of my
district who deceives me, or who commits an offence against the troops
under my command, or who in any manner holds, or attempts to hold,
communication with the enemy, will be shot without court-martial."

He turned his grim, inflexible face to the Countess and bowed, then he
bowed to me, swung squarely on his heel, and walked to the door.

"Admit the French doctor," he said to the soldier on guard, and
marched out, his curved sabre banging behind his spurred heels.

"It must be Dr. Delmont!" I said, looking at the Countess as there
came a low knock at the door.

"I am very thankful!" she said, her voice almost breaking. She rose
unsteadily from her chair; somebody entered the room behind me and I
turned, calling out, "Welcome, doctor!"

"Thank you," replied the calm voice of John Buckhurst at my elbow.

The Countess shrank aside as Buckhurst coolly passed before her,
turned his slim back to the embers of the fire, and fixed his eyes on
me--those pale, slow eyes, passionless as death.

Here was a type of criminal I had never until recently known. Small of
hand and foot--too small even for such a slender man--clean shaven,
colorless in hair, skin, lips, he challenged instant attention by the
very monotony of his bloodless symmetry. There was nothing of positive
evil in his face, nothing of impulse, good or bad, nothing even
superficially human