ay, but prudence held him. Then
she went into the castle and Auersperg was left alone on the terrace.

John saw that Prince Karl of Auersperg was very thoughtful. He walked
slowly back and forth, his figure magnified in the sun's glow, and now
and then he thoughtfully stroked his great brown beard. He seemed to
John more than ever out of place. His time was centuries ago among the
robber barons. In such a group he would not have been the worst, but in
his soul John wished that the hour for all such as he had come. If the
great war struck that dead trunk from the living body of the human race
it would not be fought wholly in vain.

He went into the castle after a while, his walk slow and thoughtful, and
John returned with the horse to the stables. All the rest of the day, he
worked with such diligence and effect that Walther bade him rest.

"You may go about the castle as much as you please," he said, "and you
may enter the part set aside for the servants, but you must stop there.
Nor can you go beyond the immediate castle grounds. If you try it you
risk a shot from the sentries."

"I've no wish to be shot and so I'll not risk it," said John, with the
utmost sincerity, and after bathing his face and hands, he strolled
through the grounds of Zillenstein, his course soon and inevitably
leading him toward the addition to the right wing from the windows of
which lights were shining. Yet the grounds outside were heavy with
shrubbery, and, keeping hidden in it, he advanced farther and farther,
eager to see.

He was not yet twenty yards from the walls and he saw human figures
passing before the windows. Then a dark form presently slipped from a
small door and stood a moment or two on the graveled walk, as if
undecided. John felt the pulses beating hard in his temples. He knew
that stalwart figure. It was none other than the grim and faithful
Suzanne and, daring all, he went to the very edge of the shrubbery,
calling in a loud whisper:

"Suzanne! Suzanne!"

She stood attentive, glanced about, and, seeing that no one observed
her, came to the edge of the deep shadow.

"Suzanne! Suzanne!" called John again. "It is I, John Scott! Have you
any message for me from Mademoiselle Julie?"

She looked again to see that none was near, and then stepped boldly into
the shrubbery, where John seized her arm half in entreaty and half to
hurry her.

"O, Suzanne! Suzanne!" he repeated, with fierce insistence. "Have you
any word for m