Robert 
 
 Ames 
 Bennef
 
 E LIBRARY 
 
 SMIL B. 4 Ll}E ~ 
 
 fc

 
 The Blond Beast 
 
 By 
 
 Robert Ames Bennet 
 
 Author of 
 
 " For the White Christ, 
 "Into the Primitive," "Which One?" etc. 
 
 Chicago 
 The Reilly & Britton Co. 
 
 UNIY. .Oil CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 Copyright, 1918 
 
 by 
 Robert Ames Bennet 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Made in U. S. A. 
 
 The Blond Beast
 
 To 
 MY ONLY SON 
 
 who is giving himself 
 
 and to 
 
 ALL OTHER SONS 
 who are giving themselves 
 
 for freedom and country 
 for democracy against autocracy 
 for Christ against the Blond Beast 
 
 2126053
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I VERBOTEN 7 
 
 II UNTEB DEN LINDEN 18 
 
 III INTO THE GUTTER 29 
 
 IV PLAYS FOB POSITION 37 
 
 V THE HiGH-BoBN COUNT 48 
 
 VI SUBBING UP THE TIGERS 59 
 
 VII His LEAVE OF ABSENCE 73 
 
 VIII THE EOSE'S STEM 81 
 
 IX A BEE IN THE HONEY 88 
 
 X A THEFT OF HONOB 97 
 
 XI SHADOWS 109 
 
 XII Qui VIVE? 120 
 
 XIII WAR AND RUMORS OF WAR 129 
 
 XIV EDGE OF THE TEMPEST 138 
 
 XV THE GRAY TORRENT 152 
 
 XVI THE BEAST RAMPANT 168 
 
 XVII FIRE AND SWORD 178 
 
 XVIII HELL 191 
 
 XIX SWORD AGAINST CROSS 201 
 
 XX FORESTALLED 213 
 
 XXI PAWNS IN THE GAME 222 
 
 XXII INTO FRANCE 236 
 
 XXIII A NIGHT SURPRISE 247 
 
 XXIV A FATEFUL MEETING. . . 258
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXV WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING 267 
 
 XXVI WINE AND WOMAN 278 
 
 XXVII BESIEGED 291 
 
 XXVIII THE STRATAGEM . ... 302 
 
 XXIX THE WAY OUT 311 
 
 XXX W T HEN INTERESTS CHANGE 321 
 
 XXXI BROKEN TIES 334 
 
 XXXII ON THE RELIEF 344 
 
 XXXIII THE EAGLE'S BEAK 353 
 
 XXXIV PISTOLS AT SUNRISE 365 
 
 XXXV FLIGHT 375 
 
 XXXVI VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 384 
 
 XXXVII THE BATTLE OF BATTLES 395 
 
 XXXVIli THE GIVERS , . 408
 
 The Blond Beast 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 VEEBOTEN 
 
 June of 1914 the last month of the Forty 
 Years' Peace, 
 
 The lavas of the great volcano had seethed up 
 close under the thin crust of appearances, but 
 the rumble of the approaching cataclysm was 
 too low and deep-pitched for most ears to hear. 
 The mass of humanity had risen to the level of 
 " live and let live." They believed in peace on 
 earth; good will among men. 
 
 America was busy making and spending money. 
 England had thought for little else than labor 
 troubles and the Home Eule imbroglio. France's 
 tongue clicked delectably over the Caillaux 
 case. Still more scandalous tales about the grand 
 dukes and the monk Rasputin leaked across the 
 Russian frontier. Germany re-echoed with dis- 
 putes over the Zabern affair in irreconcilable 
 Alsace. . . . And down beyond mongrel Austria- 
 Hungary, little Serbia was nursing her wrath 
 against the big bully who had robbed her of the 
 Old Serbia lands the country of her fellow 
 Serbs that she had freed from the Turk at heavy 
 cost of blood and treasure. 
 
 7
 
 8 The Blond Beast 
 
 The hissing in Alsace gave fair warning of 
 the menace beneath the surface. Yet superheated 
 steam may rise from a dying volcano. The 
 Zabern resentment of military tyranny was so 
 regarded. No public attention was attracted by 
 the Serbian wrath. Its silence was as profound 
 as that of the German General Staff regarding 
 The Day when the mighty Teutonic war-machine, 
 painstakingly upbuilt for forty years, should 
 thunder forth to crush Europe under its Jugger- 
 naut wheels. 
 
 To the world in general, and in large part to 
 herself, Germany still remained the land of 
 music and mysticism, though now bright with 
 the white glory of scientific achievement and 
 humming like a gigantic beehive with peaceful 
 industry and commerce. Few persons even 
 within her own borders understood the trickery 
 in her tradesmen's methods of " dumping" on 
 foreign markets. Still fewer suspected the insid- 
 ious network of espionage with which her rulers 
 had enmeshed every other country. 
 
 Only a few statesmen and diplomats and a 
 handful of clear-sighted students of events real- 
 ized that the land of Goethe and Schiller had 
 lost its noble idealism. Most foreigners smiled 
 at the assertions of modern German philosophers 
 that the State is above morality and that might 
 makes right. They thought these doctrines no 
 more than the academic vaporings of militaristic 
 writers who had pored too intently over the 
 works of mad Nietzsche. 
 
 Allan Thorpe was among the great majority 
 who saw Germany as the forefront of modern
 
 Verboten 9 
 
 civilization, the great protagonist of science and 
 efficiency and kultur. He had come over from 
 America prepared to be favorably impressed by 
 all things Teutonic. Close friendship with Kurt 
 von Kissel, his roommate during their last year 
 at Yale, had enabled him to make allowance for 
 the caste arrogance of Prussian officers. Though 
 Kurt was now a lieutenant in the Imperial Guard, 
 his gentleness and fine qualities put the spirit 
 of his fellow aristocrats in the best possible light. 
 
 Bismarck called Berlin a wilderness of brick 
 and newspapers. Had Thorpe been an artist, he 
 might have preferred one of the old romantic 
 South German towns. The Imperial capital, most 
 modern of all modern cities, is the epitome of 
 Prussianism. But the lack of winding lanes and 
 the Philistinism of the heavy buildings did not 
 trouble Thorpe. He saw only the breadth and 
 scrupulous cleanliness of the streets. His natural 
 trait of orderliness enabled him to accept without 
 friction the countless governmental rules and 
 prohibitions. The omnipresent police never irri- 
 tated him. 
 
 He had plunged at once into his postgraduate 
 year in science. What little time his lectures- 
 and studies and laboratory work left on his 
 hands, motherly Frau von Kissel took care to 
 fill in with social entertainment. The good frau 
 was deeply grateful for the favors and compan- 
 ionship that Thorpe had been only too glad to 
 give her son in America. 
 
 No less potent in rose- tinting the visitor's view 
 of all things Teutonic was Kurt's young sister 
 Elsa. She was attending a very strict school
 
 10 The Blond Beast 
 
 for high-born frauleins, an institution patronized 
 by the Empress herself. No callers were per- 
 mitted, for a nunnery could not have been more 
 severe in its rules. But during the Christmas 
 holidays, and again at Easter, Thorpe had met 
 the girl at her home. 
 
 Each time she had been surrounded by rela- 
 tives and elderly friends, whom German hospi- 
 tality required her to serve with the attentiveness 
 of a Japanese daughter-in-law. She was alto- 
 gether too modest and too restrained by her 
 severe training to permit Thorpe any opening, 
 though she had shown herself unaffectedly 
 pleased to meet her brother's American friend. 
 
 Thorpe was far more than pleased. Elsa was 
 a golden blonde, with a milk and coral complexion 
 almost unbelievably perfect, and eyes that were 
 heavenly not alone in color. To an American 
 she had the novel charm of the still-typical 
 German fraulein, who regards her elders with 
 reverence and the men of her class with meek 
 respect. She would as soon have recanted her 
 unquestioning religious faith as to have dis- 
 obeyed the authority of her mother and brother. 
 
 To Thorpe the girl's disposition was even more 
 angelic than her beauty. He had left home 
 dejected and exasperated by a rebuff from a 
 girl as typically American as Elsa von Kissel 
 was German. He had tweaked the " pigtail" of 
 Lucy Carew and lugged her books to and from 
 high school in the days before her father worked 
 himself into millions and a mausoleum. During 
 his college years, his friendship for the girl had 
 warmed to love. But Lucy had forestalled his
 
 Verboten 11 
 
 proposal and sent him hurrying off to Europe, 
 humiliated by the surmise that she believed he 
 had been seeking her fortune. 
 
 He was still sore and aching when, months 
 later, the sweetness and soft beauty of Elsa 
 von Kissel came into his life as a healing balm. 
 To grasp at the relief was natural, and no effort 
 was needed to center his thoughts on the lovely 
 young sister of his friend. His next meeting 
 with her, during the Easter holidays, confirmed 
 the first ardent visionings of her adorableness. 
 
 When he confided his feelings to Kurt, the 
 young aristocrat smiled indulgently, yet a bit 
 soberly, and suggested that the paying of court 
 to his mother might be advisable. The hint was 
 sufficient. Before the close of Elsa's last term 
 of school life, Thorpe had ensconced himself 
 deeper than ever in the good graces of the kindly 
 German lady. But, unlike an European, he said 
 nothing to her about his desire for her daughter. 
 Even after his many months in Germany, he 
 still clung to the American idea of winning the 
 girl before asking the parental blessing. 
 
 At last came the eventful day when Elsa 
 should finish with the narrow discipline of school 
 and return home a duly educated and marriage- 
 able high-born fraulein. Though Thorpe had 
 already written his thesis and won his post- 
 graduate degree, he was attending a special 
 course at the university. For once, however, 
 he turned a deaf ear to the call of his lifework, 
 and cut an unusually important lecture. 
 
 He could not have lived many months in 
 Deutschland and failed to realize that no German
 
 12 The Blond Beast 
 
 girl without a dot can expect proposals of mar- 
 riage. He also knew that Elsa's dowry was very 
 small. Yet as an American he could not but 
 feel certain that the girl's loveliness would far 
 more than outbalance her lack of fortune. He 
 looked forward with no little apprehension to 
 the hot rivalry that he expected from the many 
 titled young junkers and officers of her social 
 class. 
 
 In honor of Elsa's graduation, the Von Kissels 
 had sent out cards for a reception. Thorpe 
 planned to be the first man who should con- 
 gratulate her. As an untitled foreigner of small 
 income, he thought he must take particular 
 pains to be early in the field. The exercises 
 at the school would not be over until afternoon. 
 But mid-morning found him already dressing 
 with a fastidiousness that he had' not shown 
 since Easter. 
 
 He was anxiously inspecting the general result 
 of his labors when, close upon noon, his buxom 
 landlady came puffing up to his attic flat with 
 a very smartly costumed French chauffeur. The 
 man favored him with a bow of suave dignity, 
 and presented an unsealed note. 
 
 The monogram embossed on the heavy linen 
 envelope would have been sufficient identification 
 of the sender even without the round un-German 
 writing of the address. Thorpe's hazel eyes 
 clouded as he took out the note. But as he read 
 the missive, his tightened lips relaxed and his 
 eyes cleared. 
 
 In the peremptory tone of assured trust and 
 friendship, Lucy Carew demanded that " Dear
 
 Yerboten 13 
 
 Lan " come to her hotel at once and shoo off 
 the horrid Dutch police. His smile of relief 
 gave way too quickly to concern for the girl 
 to allow room for any dwelling upon past resent- 
 ment. He caught up his hat. 
 
 The waiting Frenchman led him down to a 
 wondrous touring car, the first glimpse of which 
 told Thorpe that it was Lucy's property. He 
 could not mistake the perfect matching of her 
 hair by the burnished golden-copper finish of the 
 body. The trimmings were as near in tint to 
 her sea-green eyes as mere pigment could attain. 
 Cushions and linings told that her complexion 
 was still rose and old gold. 
 
 As he expected, the French chauffeur motored 
 him, at the extreme speed permitted of civilians, 
 to the most expensive hotel in Berlin. Ushered 
 to Lucy's luxurious suite, he found his exquisite 
 young* countrywoman serving tea to a pair of 
 severe and unmistakably bewildered secret serv- 
 ice agents. 
 
 At the last moment he remembered to feel a 
 momentary embarrassment. But her greeting 
 ignored any cause for constraint. Instead of 
 meeting him coldly or springing up in agitated 
 appeal for his aid, she smiled in her most friendly 
 manner, beckoned him to a chair, and tilted her 
 teapot with perfect aplomb. 
 
 " I knew you'd come, Lan, if Henri could find 
 you," she said. " Still take three lumps of 
 sugar, do you? Just tell these officers I'm too 
 harmless to jail. Then we'll have a good old- 
 time chin-chin. I did England in a week, and 
 Holland in five days. Just got to Berlin. Now I
 
 14 The Blond Beast 
 
 want your advice on my tour through Germany. ' ' 
 Thorpe looked closer at the unwelcome visitors, 
 and recognized the senior as an acquaintance of 
 Kurt von Kissel's. His card and a courteous 
 question in German brought about a slight 
 unbending of official rigidity. With guttural pre- 
 ciseness the senior agent explained to " Herr 
 Allan Dorp " the charges against the American- 
 isch f raulein. She had crossed from Holland 
 without a passport; she had taken photographs 
 of the Krupp works at Essen, and her chauffeur 
 had exceeded the speed limit for civilians in 
 Berlin. 
 
 True, the last infraction of governmental regu- 
 lations was a matter to be satisfied by payment 
 of a fine. Also true, passports had not in recent 
 years been rigidly required of tourists, except 
 on the Russian frontier. Nevertheless, the 
 Americanisch f raulein 's lack of a passport be- 
 came serious in connection with the heinous fact 
 that she had taken photographs at Essen, which 
 was verboten. 
 
 Lucy Carew suspected of being a spy! A 
 year before, Thorpe would have laughed in the 
 faces of the solemn officials. Now he did not 
 feel the slightest impulse to indulge in mirth. 
 He knew his Germany. With unfeigned gravity 
 he vouched for the harmlessness of his wealthy 
 and eminently respectable friend Miss Carew. 
 Her offense had been due to innocent ignorance 
 of Imperial laws. She would be eager to make 
 amends for whatever unintentional harm had 
 been done.
 
 Verboten 15 
 
 After this clearing of the ground, Thorpe pro- 
 ceeded to suggest an arrangement of the affair. 
 The junior secret service man frowned in stern 
 disapproval. His superior considered, and reluc- 
 tantly agreed. 
 
 " The Herr Inspector is most kind, Miss 
 Carew," said Thorpe, greatly relieved. "It is 
 well the officials are used to our American happy- 
 go-lucky ways. Had you been of any other 
 nationality, they'd have arrested you as a spy 
 the moment you took those Krupp photographs." 
 
 Lucy's lovely green eyes widened. 
 
 ' ' A spy and only a few snapshots with my 
 baby kodak? How silly! " 
 
 " Not to Europeans. But I have explained 
 your innocence of all intent to do wrong. I am 
 to take you to our embassy for a passport 
 after you have handed over the forbidden 
 photographs. ' ' 
 
 " Give up my pictures? " protested the girl. 
 " What a shame! I'll not do it." 
 
 " You forget this is not America," Thorpe 
 came back at her with rather more of the tone 
 of the domineering Prussian male than the defer- 
 ence to which she was accustomed. " You will 
 give up the photos, or they will be taken and 
 you too. Though the charge may seem absurd 
 to you, these officials are doing their strict duty 
 no more. The arrangement I have made is 
 an unusual courtesy." 
 
 " It's an outrage! " exclaimed Lucy, her eyes 
 flashing. " I shall have our ambassador demand 
 an apology and "
 
 16 The Blond Beast 
 
 " We'll go to him at once. But first, turn 
 over those photographs, else we shall be required 
 to go to the police station." 
 
 Lucy looked the stern-faced Germans up and 
 down with haughty disdain, and called over her 
 shoulder: " Marcelle, my camera." 
 
 The elderly French maid, who had been hover- 
 ing in the background, hastened to fetch a pocket 
 kodak. Her mistress took out the spool, coolly 
 stepped to the window, and, with a sudden sweep, 
 unrolled the film in the full glare of the mid-day 
 sun. The senior official sprang to snatch the roll 
 from her. He poured out a torrent of mingled 
 threats and chidings in harsh, jagged English. 
 Lucy confronted him with the chill dignity of 
 an offended princess. 
 
 The restraint of Thorpe's German training 
 snapped. He thrust between, and pushed back 
 the angry denouncer. 
 
 " Enough of that," he said. " This is an 
 American lady. We shall see what our ambas- 
 sador has to say about your insulting behavior." 
 
 " Eimmel! My superiors vill the say haf," 
 spluttered the German. " She the photographs 
 gespoilt! " 
 
 " I am not taking snapshots for other people," 
 said Lucy. " If I can't keep my memento views, 
 no one else shall have them." 
 
 " You see," Thorpe caught at the point. 
 " The fraulein took the photos merely as memen- 
 tos of her tour. She has now destroyed the 
 verboten film. What more could you ask? We 
 will go immediately to the American embassy
 
 Verboten 17 
 
 and protest against your insults. I will also 
 consult my friend Lieutenant von Kissel." 
 
 Before this firm front, the German drew back 
 to consult with his junior. After a guttural 
 muttering, they rolled up the ruined film and left 
 the suite with boorish abruptness.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 UNTEE DEN LINDEN 
 
 Thorpe waved Lucy to hasten into her 
 dressing-room. Instead of going, she clasped 
 his out-thrust arm between both her jeweled 
 hands and beamed up into his concerned face 
 with what he took to be the glow of gratitude. 
 
 1 1 You dear old stand-by ! ' ' she murmured. 
 " No matter if you did run off to Europe last 
 year without saying good-by no matter if 
 you've never written me a line! I knew I could 
 count on you, Lan. I want to tell you " 
 
 " Later," broke in Thorpe. " There's no 
 guessing what the secret service and the police 
 may do next. Get on your hat and come down 
 at once. I'll make sure your car is ready." 
 
 He was out in the corridor before she could 
 reply. A few years earlier she would have 
 pouted over her disappointment. Now she smiled 
 and hastened to select the hat she thought would 
 best please him. His hurry and brusqueness had 
 been due to concern for her. After they had 
 been to the embassy and he was sure of her 
 safety from the impertinent police, he would find 
 time to speculate on what had brought her to 
 Berlin. 
 
 In the meantime Thorpe had thought only for 
 the danger in which he believed his country- 
 is
 
 Unter den Linden 19 
 
 woman had been placed by her indiscretion. He 
 met her at the elevator and hurriedly led the 
 way to the car. All during the drive to the 
 embassy, he was silent and kept an alert eye 
 out for the many soldierly policemen on guard 
 in the broad streets. He did not notice the 
 charming hat of his companion or her face. 
 By the time the car rolled along the Wilhelm 
 Platz to the American embassy, the look of 
 tender eagerness in her eyes had disappeared 
 behind a cool, rather over-bright surface luster. 
 
 Though the ambassador was away, Thorpe 
 knew the attaches, and Lucy's munificent letters 
 of credit on a Paris bank established her identity 
 in most convincing manner. 
 
 " You see, I came over prepared to buy a 
 chateau or a title, ' * she remarked to the lega- 
 tion secretary in a tone that struck Thorpe as 
 not altogether facetious. 
 
 " Hats too," he rallied. " No doubt you'll 
 soon be flitting to Paris. Mr. Thorpe will tell 
 you that schlosses but not chateaux are made in 
 Germany. As for titled husbands, it's long odds 
 that the French brand will be the less unman- 
 ageable." 
 
 Lucy met the banter with a very fair imitation 
 of a French shrug. 
 
 " Oh, if I marry in Germany, I'll expect to 
 honor and obey." 
 
 Thorpe took up her carefully made-out pass- 
 port, the photograph on which was a snapshot 
 from her own kodak. Going out to the car, he 
 remarked on the excellence of the likeness. 
 
 " My baby camera has a hundred-dollar lens,"
 
 20 The Blond Beast 
 
 she explained. " It takes perfect pictures. Those 
 stupid policemen to make me ruin a whole 
 film!" 
 
 11 Why did you? Some of the exposures may 
 not have been verboten." 
 
 11 Of course not. They were all cows and 
 peasants and geese." 
 
 " All. . .geese! But those views yon took at 
 Essen? " queried Thorpe, pausing in perplexity 
 with his hand on the tonneau door of the car. 
 
 " Oh, the Krupp pictures," answered the girl. 
 " Those were three or four films back." 
 
 The car door swung open to Thorpe's jerk. 
 He half lifted his companion up into the seat 
 and sprang in after her. 
 
 ' l Back to the hotel quick ! " he called to 
 the chauffeur. 
 
 "Why why, Lan, what's the hurry 7 " 
 remonstrated Lucy. " One would think you 
 were in America." 
 
 " If only we were! " rejoined Thorpe as the 
 car swung around. " Those confounded snap- 
 shots! If your baggage is searched before we 
 get back ' ' 
 
 Lucy patted his arm with a reassuring hand. 
 
 " Don't worry about them. They're nearer 
 us than the hotel, and perfectly safe. Before 
 I took them I knew the Germans wouldn't like 
 it. Henri had told me. So I've taken care of 
 them. They'll be so cute when developed. One's 
 of a huge ugly squat cannon oh, so enormous ! 
 It made me think of those monstrous reptiles in 
 the museums the fossil creatures they call 
 dynamos."
 
 Unter den Linden 21 
 
 " Dynosaurs," corrected Thorpe. 
 
 " Yes. Well, the guide led our party past a 
 door that had a great big Verboten painted on 
 it. So I slipped back and took a peek inside. 
 That funny dynamo cannon was so big I couldn't 
 see past it. The workman I asked to pose in 
 front when I took the snaps must have tattled 
 on me. But don't worry. The film isn't at the 
 hotel." 
 
 Thorpe bent forward to re-direct the chauffeur : 
 " To the right, into the Thiergarten. Drive 
 slow. ' ' 
 
 <{ No wonder you were followed," he reproved, 
 as he relaxed on the luxurious cushions beside 
 the girl. " Eight now you'd be in a cell if you 
 weren't an heiress, an American, and a beauty." 
 
 Lucy flashed him an eager glance that he failed 
 to catch. He was staring dubiously at the back 
 of the French chauffeur. Reaction lent a touch 
 of tartness to the girl's reply: 
 
 " If they hadn't made such a fuss, I'd have 
 given them the real film. I don't permit any- 
 one to be rude to me. That is why I spoiled 
 the other film to fool them." 
 
 " Yes, you duped them and added enough 
 proof to your first indiscretion to convict your- 
 self of spying, if those snapshots are found on 
 you," said Thorpe. 
 
 " How you do keep on at that! They're safe, 
 I tell you. In the embassy I addressed them to 
 myself, at Paris, and slipped them into the 
 dispatch-pouch that the courier said was to be 
 taken to our French embassy." 
 
 Thorpe leaned back again and mopped his
 
 22 The Blond Beast 
 
 forehead, too astonished for an immediate reply. 
 
 " For sheer transatlantic nerve, Loo Carew, 
 you are the limit," he groaned. " Of course, 
 you're safe on this affair now. But to think 
 of a girl like you running loose around Europe 
 without an asylum attendant! " 
 
 " Well, you see, I'm counting on you to take 
 the position," countered the girl. 
 
 Her eyelids drooped under his surprised stare, 
 and the rose of her cheeks deepened a shade. 
 
 " I I mean it would be so bothersome to 
 have the usual courier, and I thought that 
 perhaps you as an old friend, you know. . . " 
 
 Even the conclusion of the faltering explana- 
 tion failed to clear away Thorpe's frown. 
 
 " Conventions are strict enough at home, Loo. 
 Here they are iron-clad," he chided. " After 
 such an indiscretion, you'd never have a ghost 
 of a show, even for a French title." 
 
 " You stupid old silly! " cried the girl. 
 " Can't you guess that I " 
 
 " A maid isn't enough," cut in Thorpe. 
 " You'd need a chaperon of a social standing at 
 least equal to Frau von Kissel's. . .I'm sorry, 
 though, Loo. It's mighty good of you to let 
 bygones be bygones and give me a chance for 
 the grand tour. I had been planning to tramp 
 it this summer, if I couldn't get a lift... only 
 now, you see, my work " 
 
 Lucy half raised her gaze, her eyes very dark 
 under their shadowing lashes. Her red lips 
 parted in a bantering smile. 
 
 " No, I don't see her; but I'd like to. What's 
 her name? "
 
 Unter den Linden 23 
 
 Thorpe's embarrassed flush was sufficient con- 
 firmation of his companion's suspicion. 
 
 " I thought so! " she rallied. " I half guessed 
 it right at first, when you put on that brotherly 
 air... One of those so-lofely Gretchens, I sup- 
 pose indigo eyes and straw-colored hair." 
 
 ' ' Indigo eyes ! ' ' protested the victim. ' ' For 
 that, I shall take you to Fraulein von Kissel's 
 reception and ' ' 
 
 " Do, by all means. When is it? I'm dying 
 to meet some of these grand opera officers. Their 
 eyes are all steel-gray or china-blue." 
 
 She smiled at the resplendently uniformed 
 young hussar and grenadier officers who were 
 cantering by on highstrung thoroughbreds or 
 whirling along in military cars. 
 
 Thorpe somewhat curtly called her attention 
 to the groups of marble statues on the other side. 
 
 " If you want to look at the real Prussians, 
 here they are," he said. " The Emperor had all 
 his ancestors carved for the Thiergarten, each 
 with a pair of counsellors." 
 
 Lucy's dark eyebrows arched as he pointed 
 out in turn the statues of the Great Elector, of 
 Frederick the Great, and all the other blood- 
 and-iron rulers who had beaten back foes on 
 every side and welded together first Prussia, 
 then all Germany, with their hard hammering 
 in the forge of war. 
 
 " What an endless lot of fighters," she criti- 
 cized. ' * Not a single angel or other f raulein 
 to break the monotony. No wonder some of 
 the English are trying to get up a scare over 
 the War Lord and his shiny sword. What can
 
 24 The Blond Beast 
 
 you expect of a Kaiser who'd put so much good 
 marble to a use like this? " 
 
 The badinage failed to win any smile from 
 Thorpe. 
 
 " The Emperor is a very remarkable man," 
 he reproved. " No one in Germany speaks 
 lightly of him. In his hand rests the peace of 
 Europe. The militarists here number only one 
 million of the sixty-seven million Germans. But 
 they are very influential. According to my friend 
 Kurt von Kissel, if it were not for the Kaiser " 
 
 1 ' Oh, yes Kurt ! ' ' exclaimed Lucy with sud- 
 den vivacity. " Such a nice boy. Don't you 
 remember? You introduced him to me at the 
 Yale-Harvard game." 
 
 "Finest fellow I know," said Thorpe 
 " Born aristocrat, yet American in so many ways. 
 He has little taste for army life. Intends to 
 resign his commission as soon as permissible, 
 and devote himself to the management of his 
 estate." 
 
 " I should think he'd wish to keep his position 
 as an officer, even if he doesn't like the idle life," 
 remarked Lucy. " Just look at the gorgeousness 
 of those uniforms scarlet and gold and silver 
 and Prussian blue and green white plumes and 
 leopard skins, clinky sabres and and death's- 
 heads! " 
 
 " Idle? " Thorpe caught up the fair critic. 
 " All those military models were up at five to 
 drill their men and their salaries no more 
 than a sergeant's pay in America, As for Kurt 
 like most Prussian vons, he's as poor as he's 
 blue-blooded. Belated to a dozen high-born
 
 TJntcr den Linden 25 
 
 families i even, in a way, to royalty. But his 
 old castle is almost a ruin, and the few acres 
 left of the estate are not as productive as they 
 might be." 
 
 The ear had left the Thiergarten and was 
 purring along Unter den Linden. As Thorpe 
 relaxed from his fixed stare he perceived a pair 
 of crimson-uniformed hussar officers cantering 
 aslant towards Lucy's side of the car. They 
 reined in their mounts to fling audacious salutes 
 at the foreign fraulein. Lucy responded with a 
 bow of such condescending graciousness that they 
 mistook her for a " Highness " and came stiffly 
 to a real salute. 
 
 " Just like their insolence," muttered Thorpe. 
 " Glad you brought them to time. Not many 
 girls could have done it so neatly." 
 
 Lucy looked up at him with her green eyes 
 half veiled. 
 
 " You flatter me, Lan. But there's such a 
 thing as being too adept in defense. . .And now, 
 to return to the question of my tour. . .You sug- 
 gested Kurt's mother as chaperon." 
 
 "You mistook me. I meant " 
 
 11 No matter. I suggest it to myself. Don't 
 frown. I'm preparing to rave over your indigo- 
 eyed angel. First we'll have a bite to eat, and 
 then you'll take me to call. You can't object 
 to my coaxing Mrs. von Kissel into motoring 
 with me to Paris. As you see, there's room for 
 us all including friend Kurt and the angel." 
 
 1 ' Loo ! You can 't mean it ? " questioned 
 Thorpe, his eyes aglow with delight. 
 
 Why not? " she replied. " You wish me to 
 
 < <
 
 26 The Blond Beast 
 
 make the acquaintance of your friend, and I take 
 it you have no objection to traveling in the same 
 party with Miss von Kissel. Who knows? We 
 may become related by marriage, after all." 
 
 The bitter-sweet irony of this last struck under 
 Thorpe's feet. He was afloat in a golden cloud 
 of anticipation. To bowl through Europe for 
 a fortnight or a month side by side with Elsa 
 von Kissel what a blissful prospect! 
 
 " You're a brick, Loo. Just like you to forget 
 my foolishness and take me back on the old 
 chum basis. And the Von Kissels they're of 
 the real nobility, though the title is in another 
 branch. You're bound to be friends with Elsa. 
 She's adorably artless and sincere." 
 
 "Indeed? Then of course I can't hope to 
 resist her charms, any 'more than you have 
 straw hair, indigo eyes, and all. For your sake, 
 I'm glad she's blond, and not a dark angel." 
 
 The rather fatuous smile with which Thorpe 
 met this badinage vanished as his glance flicked 
 along the great avenue. Ahead, in the direction 
 of Potsdam, cars were swerving aside and pedes- 
 trians lining up along the walks. At a sharp 
 word from Thorpe, the French chauffeur turned 
 in and stopped beside the curb. 
 
 Lucy's glance followed Thorpe's, and was held 
 by the sight of policemen, soldiers and officers 
 clicking their heels together and raising their 
 hands in precise military salute to a big car that 
 came tearing along Unter den Linden from out 
 Potsdam way. Men not in uniform lifted their 
 hats and bowed sweepingly. Even women and 
 children faced the car with profound respect.
 
 TJnter den Linden 27 
 
 Behind the jager chauffeur soon effulged into 
 view a silver-helmeted royalty with resplendent 
 uniform and order-bespangled breast. He sat 
 severely erect in the rear seat, acknowledging 
 the "Hochs!" of the people with dignified mili- 
 tary upliftings of his right hand. Thorpe sprang 
 up to lift his hat and bow almost as deferentially 
 as the German civilians. 
 
 For a moment, as the car passed, the amused 
 ironical smile of the American girl caught and 
 fixed the piercing glance of Majestdt. The cold 
 blue eyes froze to offended hauteur, the strong 
 jaw set like iron. With the tightening of the 
 thin lips, the uptwisted mustache ends seemed to 
 threaten like the tushes of a wild boar. 
 
 Another moment, and Majestdt had swept past. 
 Thorpe bent down to speak to his companion. 
 She was still and rather white, and no longer 
 smiling. 
 
 " Don't you understand, Loo? " he asked. 
 " That was His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor.'* 
 
 The girl quivered with a little shudder of 
 repugnance. 
 
 " Yes," she murmured. " He looked at me. . . 
 I remember my father said, * I don't like that 
 man William.' It was when he read how the 
 Kaiser sat in a hunting lodge and shot down two 
 hundred tame deer as they were driven past," 
 
 " But, Loo, that's merely the German idea of 
 sport. It's only the custom of the " 
 
 " Did you see his look? " broke in the girl. 
 " And you say he has the peace of Europe in 
 his hand in the mailed fist he talks so much 
 about. Poor little dove! "
 
 28 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Cut it," warned Thorpe, with an uneasy 
 glance towards a passing car of Death's Head 
 Lancers. " Ridicule of the Kaiser is a serious 
 offense lese-majeste, you know. Besides, he's 
 not at all what you think him. Everyone says 
 he is very gracious, particularly to Americans. 
 Whatever you do, say nothing against him to any 
 German." 
 
 Lucy rallied from her somber mood. 
 
 " Oh, I'll agree not to snub him if he's pre- 
 sented to me, Lan. But let's talk about some- 
 thing pleasant. We passed a cafe a little way 
 back. No we needn't wait for Henri to turn 
 round. He can wait here."
 
 The cafe was equal to the best in New York. 
 But Lucy's surprise over the deliciousness of the 
 German cooking forced from Thorpe an admis- 
 sion that all high-class Berlin restaurants and 
 hotels employed French chefs. 
 
 To offset this, he took up most of the luncheon 
 time with an enthusiastic laudation of Ger- 
 man achievements in science and in kultur. 
 Lucy was inclined to be critical. She had the 
 normal American impatience over governmental 
 restraints. 
 
 " I'd never get used to all these verbotens," 
 she said. " Life here is like being in a cage and 
 tied up to the bars. Then all those soldier police 
 with their swords! I never saw so many in my 
 life." 
 
 " But look at the results," argued Thorpe. 
 " Here we have an almost crimeless city, with 
 streets so clean you could eat in the gutters. 
 Compared with Apache-infested Paris ' ' 
 
 " And with French hats and cooking! " inter- 
 jected Lucy. 
 
 " You shall soon have a taste of German hos- 
 pitality," rejoined Thorpe. " I'll phone to the 
 Von Kissels." 
 
 He came back from the telephone beaming. 
 
 29
 
 30 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Frau von Kissel is like a mother to me. She 
 urged that I bring you to Elsa's reception. It's 
 a very informal affair. If we go early, there 
 will be time for you to get acquainted before 
 the crush." 
 
 11 Of course I'll go," agreed Lucy, her eyes 
 like polished jade. " I'm just dying to see your 
 straw-haired angel . . . and there 's Kurt, too 
 and maybe I'll meet counts and barons and 
 dukes, since the Kissels are what you call high- 
 born. ' ' 
 
 She was still bantering when Thorpe led her 
 out of the cafe. A policeman had required 
 Henri to move her car to a point half a block 
 away. The Frenchman was lolling with his back 
 to them, a cigarette perked between his lips, and 
 his black eyes seeking to intrigue all the flaxen- 
 haired maidens who chanced to pass. 
 
 Midway between car and cafe, a row of hilari- 
 ous Prussian officers came sweeping along, linked 
 arm in arm across the sidewalk and singing at 
 the top of their voices a beer-song of the Stu- 
 dent Corps. As they advanced, all the women 
 and men before them seemed to have urgent busi- 
 ness in the nearest shops. Thorpe took Lucy's 
 arm and sought to lead her to the doorway ad- 
 joining the cafe. 
 
 " Step in here a moment," he urged. 
 
 But Lucy's interest was centered upon the 
 novel spectacle of the chorusing officers. 
 
 " Wait," she said. " I want to hear the sex- 
 tette. Just look at them. What a hit they'd 
 make in musical comedy with that assortment of 
 uniforms! "
 
 Into the Gutter 31 
 
 Before Thorpe could explain the situation, 
 she jerked free from his detaining arm and 
 slanted out along the sidewalk directly before 
 the row of officers. They bore down upon her, 
 stretched all the way across from building line 
 to curb, their spurs jingling and sabre scabbards 
 flashing. 
 
 The American girl might has posed as Beauty 
 Adorned. But even the youngest of the officers 
 was too engrossed in his singing to heed her. 
 Though Thorpe hurried to overtake the unsus- 
 pecting girl, she was out beyond the middle of 
 the walk before he could regain his position be- 
 side her. The long, swinging strides of the 
 officers had already brought them close. Thorpe 
 grasped Lucy's arm and drew her over to the 
 curb. But as he stepped into the gutter she 
 perceived his purpose and jerked free. 
 
 The outermost officer of the row was a tall 
 captain of the Imperial Guard, whose florid 
 hatchet face bore the purplish scars of many 
 rapier slashes above the tush-like prongs of his 
 ash-yellow mustache. Lucy, of course, expected 
 him to step aside for her to pass. He did not so 
 much as look down or falter a single note of the 
 jolly beer-song as he swung full tilt against her. 
 The impact knocked her reeling into the gutter. 
 Only the quick clutch of Thorpe saved her from 
 falling headlong. 
 
 She did not scream. The cry that she flung 
 at the back of the tall captain was hot with 
 scorn. As if challenged, he broke free from the 
 next officer and wheeled about, harsh-faced and 
 threatening. His abruptly silenced comrades
 
 32 The Blond Beast 
 
 gave him the sympathetic support of frowns and 
 arrogant stares at the foreign fraulein who had 
 the impertinence to be indignant at a Prussian 
 officer. 
 
 Anger had served only to heighten Lucy's 
 beauty. As the captain eyed her flushed cheeks 
 and gracefully erect form, his severity relaxed 
 to insolent admiration. Gallantry impelled him 
 to forgive the charming lady for her presump- 
 tion over obstructing the sidewalk. 
 
 " Next time, miss, you will know better than 
 to get in the way of an officer," he admonished 
 in precisely accented English. 
 
 Lucy replied with the deliberate distinctness of 
 white-hot anger : ' ' Next time I shall know what 
 to expect of clumsy boors. " 
 
 Two or three of the younger officers, already 
 flushed with beer or wine, flamed crimson and 
 grasped at their sabre hilts, infuriated by so 
 scandalous an insult from a female. The cap- 
 tain waved them back and fixed his steel-blue 
 eyes upon Thorpe in an icy stare. 
 
 " So," he jeered. " Your pretty bird's feath- 
 ers are ruffled. You have perhaps a remark to 
 make nicht? " 
 
 Thorpe's jaw was hard-set, his face white. 
 His hazel eyes met the provocative challenge of 
 the Prussian's look without wavering. Neither 
 the menacing gaze nor the mocking, arrogant 
 smile stung him out of his self-control. 
 
 " Come," he said to Lucy, and he led her 
 away towards the car. 
 
 Within a few paces the captain came tip be- 
 side her other elbow.
 
 Into the Gutter 33 
 
 " Most charming fraulein," he murmured with 
 insolent gallantry, " I perceive you are Ameri- 
 canisch and so did not understand. The pleasure 
 shall be mine of escorting you to a cafe for a 
 glass of champagne. We shall break a bottle 
 together and be friends, n'est-ce pas? " 
 
 As the Prussian spoke, he laid his gloved hand 
 on Lucy's arm. She looked up at Thorpe, her 
 eyes widening in half-frightened expectancy. His 
 gaze had fixed itself straight ahead at the car. 
 It did not waver. Lucy drew her hand from his 
 arm and slackened her gait. 
 
 The gallant captain smiled in half-contemptu- 
 ous exultance over the ease of his conquest. The 
 freed hand of the American girl slipped down 
 into her purse. She drew out an English copper 
 penny and held it up to the Prussian, her lips 
 curving in a smile of gracious condescension. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, " but I shall not 
 require your services." 
 
 Had the penny been red-hot the captain could 
 not have drawn back from it more abruptly. He 
 flashed a savagely eager glance at Thorpe. The 
 American went on without looking around. Lucy 
 arched her dark eyebrows at the furious officer 
 in well-feigned surprise, dropped the penny at 
 his feet, and quietly walked away after Thorpe. 
 
 The captain did not follow her. Fortunately 
 for all concerned, his body had so blocked the 
 view of his fellow officers that none of them 
 could have seen the offer of the tip. Had Thorpe 
 looked back, he would instantly have been spitted 
 on the Prussian's sword. As it was, the 
 Americanisch fraulein had no witnesses to her
 
 34 The Blond Beast 
 
 mockery. The captain was the senior of his 
 companions in rank. None would presume to 
 comment upon his rebuff. He faced about and 
 swaggered back to link his arm again with that 
 of the outermost lieutenant, as if nothing had 
 occurred. 
 
 Lucy came to the car and stepped in without 
 either looking around or appearing to see the 
 hand that Thorpe held out to help her. In the 
 tonneau she turned about to block him from 
 following, and spoke in the same tone that she 
 had used to the Prussian: 
 
 " I shall no longer require your very kind 
 services, Mr. Thorpe." 
 
 He gazed up at her with no sign of surprise 
 or of shame. A steady look into her cool eyes 
 convinced him of the disdain behind her surface 
 graciousness. He closed the tonneau door, lifted 
 his hat, and stepped back to go. Lucy flung out 
 her hand in a gesture of distress. 
 
 * * Lan ! Wait ! Come back here . . . The idea ! 
 You're not going off without a single word in 
 defense of yourself. I'll not permit it." 
 
 " You dismissed me, Miss Carew." 
 
 " Nonsense! Give Henri the Kissel address, 
 and get in here at once." 
 
 Thorpe obeyed with the docility of a German 
 soldier at drill. 
 
 " Now," ordered the girl as the car rolled 
 off with them. " Tell me why you didn't." 
 
 Thorpe's set face did not relax. 
 
 " Nothing could have given me greater pleas- 
 ure than to have tweaked the Prussian's big 
 nose and then laid him in the gutter."
 
 Into the Gutter 35 
 
 i i 
 
 Well? " queried Lucy. " I know you used 
 to box and you must admit that the boor needed 
 a good thrashing." 
 
 ' ' Boxing here is considered brutal ... I might 
 have dropped him before he could draw on me. 
 But there were all his companions." 
 
 " They would have attacked you? The cow- 
 ards! " 
 
 " Don't be hasty, Loo. These officers are a 
 caste apart from the great mass of good-natured, 
 peace-loving Germans. I'm only a civilian. 
 They would have been compelled to avenge the 
 insult to their superior officer. You see, I didn't 
 enjoy the prospect of being carved up, and I 
 thought it might be rather unpleasant to you 
 even more so than the captain's attentions." 
 
 Lucy drew in a sharp breath. " They wouldn't 
 really have hurt you badly? " 
 
 " Judge for yourself," said Thorpe. " In a 
 crowded cafe the other evening a workman hap- 
 pened to jog the elbow of an officer. The officer 
 drew his sword and deliberately killed the unfor- 
 tunate fellow in cold blood. His defense before 
 court martial was that his dignity had been 
 affronted. He was sentenced to a month or 
 so of confinement to his own quarters." 
 
 " For a murder like that! " 
 
 " Many officers consider the punishment un- 
 duly harsh. They would have rewarded him for 
 enforcing due respect to their rank." 
 
 Lucy could not restrain her indignation. " I 
 must say, if Mr. von Kissel is at all like that ' ' 
 
 " What! Kurt? He wouldn't hurt a fly, nor 
 even the feelings of a Frenchman," asserted
 
 36 The Blond Beast 
 
 Thorpe. " He was quite at home in America," 
 The frown left Lucy's broad forehead. She 
 listened smilingly to her companion's praises 
 of the Von Kissels, while the car purred rapidly 
 out along the broad avenues.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 PLAYS FOE POSITION 
 
 The modest Von Kissel mansion stood well 
 back in its grounds, massed about with the old- 
 fashioned June flowers of a German home gar- 
 den. Thorpe was pleased when he saw no 
 coupes or sedans in the drive, and no approach- 
 ing bevies of fraus and frauleins. He and Lucy 
 were first to arrive at the reception. 
 
 At the door Lucy dropped her free-and-easy 
 manner to assume the formal haughty carriage 
 with which she expected to be met. The arro- 
 gance of the Prussian officers had colored her 
 anticipations of the deportment of German host- 
 esses. 
 
 There was a delay at the entrance that an- 
 noyed her and confirmed these unpleasant expec- 
 tations. Thorpe rang a second time. Then the 
 door opened with a hospitable sweep, and before 
 the guests appeared, not the butler or liveried 
 footman for whom Lucy looked, but a radiant 
 angelic vision of blond loveliness. 
 
 The vision blushed deliciously as she greeted 
 " Herr Thorpe " with the meek deference due 
 to a male guest. Her manner was so artless 
 and her dress so simple that Lucy might have 
 mistaken her for a Cinderella maid-servant, had 
 
 37
 
 38 The Blond Beast 
 
 not Thorpe hastened to stammer out an intro- 
 duction. 
 
 For a moment Lucy's hauteur became more 
 intense. But the sweetness and innocence of the 
 younger girl were irresistible. Though Lucy's 
 eyes clouded as she perceived the look with which 
 Thorpe was regarding Fraulein von Kissel, she 
 smiled and clasped the plump white hand of the 
 welcomer. 
 
 " So you are Gold Elsie," she said. " I know 
 all about you. I met your brother in America." 
 
 Elsa beamed with artless delight. " Ach! 
 That Kurt remembers Miss Carew is not to be 
 wondered is it, Herr Thorpe? " 
 
 " Perhaps," admitted Thorpe. " But she must 
 not flatter herself that she is the only fraulein 
 easy to remember." 
 
 Though the German girl's extreme unsophis- 
 tication might have been puzzled by the words, 
 the look in Thorpe's eyes was unmistakable. She 
 blushed more delectably than before. But inbred 
 hospitality enabled her to overcome the confu- 
 sion of embarrassment. She courtesied the 
 guests into a parlor whose old mahogany fur- 
 niture was as satisfying to an artistic eye as 
 was the rich mellow- toned decorations. 
 
 Thorpe received the first invitation to be 
 seated. He insisted upon choosing a plain chair. 
 The slightly flustered fraulein then led Lucy 
 across to the small sofa at the head of the room. 
 As the visitor sat down, she made a gesture 
 that invited the young hostess to share the sofa. 
 Fraulein Elsa's eyes rounded at the suggestion 
 of two occupying the seat of honor. Such a
 
 Plays for Position 39 
 
 breach of etiquette would be most improper. 
 
 " Mother is helping Grethel with the cakes," 
 she informed Thorpe. " Such a stupid girl we 
 now have! I shall ask your pardon that I may 
 take Mother's place, for her to welcome you." 
 
 Thorpe ventured a bold move that brought 
 him first to the rear door. He blocked it to the 
 scarlet-cheeked girl. 
 
 " Stay and visit with Miss Carew, fraulein," 
 he urged. " I shall tell the mother of our 
 arrival. The kitchen latch is used to my hand." 
 
 He disappeared without waiting for a reply. 
 The fraulein gazed around at Lucy, her big blue 
 eyes violet with indecision. 
 
 " Don't mind him," reassured the American 
 girl. " It's just our Yankee brashness. From 
 what he told me, I gather he is quite at home 
 with your mother and brother." 
 
 " Ja, he is Kurt's beloved friend," murmured 
 Elsa. She blushed as she spoke, and hastened 
 back to her guest, radiant with child-like admira- 
 tion. 
 
 " Ach, fraulein, you are most lovely such ex- 
 quisiteness and style! I feel I shall be greatly 
 fond of you. Is it not strange? I have met not 
 many Americans, and they all are what do you 
 say? most nice. In our school we are taught 
 that Americans are red Indians those who are 
 not Deutsch. But Kurt says there are many 
 others. He told me about you. I wondered he 
 could admire a fraulein not Deutsch. Now I 
 do not wonder." 
 
 Lucy wavered. To cherish resentment against 
 this innocent child was all but impossible.
 
 40 The Blond Beast 
 
 11 My dear," she replied, " I, for my part, no 
 longer wonder that Lan Thorpe believes angels 
 are golden-haired. He would be even more de- 
 lighted than I am, if you would say to him what 
 you have to me - about fondness." 
 
 Elsa's blue eyes sank, and a deep blush swept 
 from her white forehead down across her coral 
 cheeks to her milky throat. 
 
 " At at our school, ' ' she faltered, ' ' we are 
 taught not to talk about men. Besides it is 
 for parents and elders to choose." 
 
 There was no need for the verbal confidences 
 that decorum forbade the girl to speak. Her 
 blush had all too clearly confessed her feelings. 
 The rose faded from Lucy's cheeks, leaving them 
 almost sallow. Her eyes darkened. Yet after 
 a long moment of tension, her lips curved in a 
 smile that held no trace of bitterness. 
 
 " I can't blame Lan. You're sweet enough to 
 eat." 
 
 She sighed, rallied, and impulsively sprang up 
 to pat the pink and white cheek of the adorable 
 maiden. Though a full hand's-breadth the 
 shorter, she had the appearance of smiling down 
 upon the younger girl. 
 
 "I'm sure we shall be friends," she declared. 
 " Sit down. We'll leave out the men, and have 
 a good gabble about dresses." 
 
 Too fascinated to resist, Elsa yielded to the 
 clasp that drew her down upon the sofa beside 
 her new friend. 
 
 Thorpe had already reached the kitchen. He 
 found motherly Frau von Kissel in the midst 
 of the glazed tile-work and polished metal, direct-
 
 Plays for Position 41 
 
 ing every movement of the stupid Grethel. Her 
 capable hands were no less busily engaged in 
 actual preparation of the reception refreshments. 
 
 " Mein lieber Allant, for you to come at such 
 a time ! ' ' she remonstrated. ' ' You have brought 
 the fraulein, your friend, already, nicht? Be- 
 ware the flour on the table." 
 
 The maid servant understood no English. 
 Thorpe smiled cheerfully at his h^at-flushed 
 hostess, and replied with frank directness: 
 
 11 I thought the frauleins would sooner become 
 acquainted if I left them alone, Tante. You will 
 like Miss Carew. She has two or three million 
 dollars for dot over ten million marks and 
 she remembers Kurt." 
 
 Frau von Kissel paused with a pan of cakes 
 half out of the oven. " She remembers? " 
 
 " Favorably. . .And Elsa says he remembers 
 her. I introduced them in America, you know." 
 
 The good frau waited until she had the cakes 
 safe on the table. 
 
 ' ' Allant, you are a true friend . . . Yet the frau- 
 lein she is not high-born and she is foreign. ' ' 
 
 " No more than I am. Have you found me so 
 outlandish? " 
 
 " Ach, a friend, he is different. To take a 
 foreigner into my family, that is not the same at 
 all." 
 
 The well-meant differentiation brought Thorpe 
 up with a jar. Sincerely as the good frau had 
 mothered him, he was forced to sudden realiza- 
 tion of the stony barriers of caste and race 
 behind the ivy of her kindness. But barriers 
 have been battered down, and he was deeply in
 
 42 The Blond Beast 
 
 love with Elsa. He made a masked move in 
 flank. 
 
 ' * Oh, of course, if you feel that way, Tante . . . 
 Still, you'll enjoy Miss Carew's acquaintance, I 
 know. She has beauty and charm as well as 
 money. I thought I'd speak to you before 
 one of the titled officers snaps her up. These 
 international marriages are becoming quite the 
 custom. ' ' 
 
 Frau von Kissel nodded with indignant em- 
 phasis. 
 
 " Ja, it is a shame! The high-born spend- 
 thrifts must have foreign heiresses to pay off 
 their gambling debts. They are not content with 
 Deutsch frauleins who have not so large dots. 
 Most different it would be for Elsa if my rich 
 bachelor cousin should die. He owns much 
 Krupp stock, and he has promised half his 
 fortune to each of my children." 
 
 Thorpe did not miss his opportunity. " In 
 America a fraulein is not required to have a 
 dot. If she possesses beauty and charm, no 
 more is expected." 
 
 * ' What foolishness ! In America, you have 
 told me, undutiful children marry to please them- 
 selves. In Deutschland the wedding is as the 
 parents wish." 
 
 " I know you will do your best to make your 
 children happy, dear Tante," soothed Thorpe. 
 tt There are sons and daughters of rich mer- 
 chants who desire marriage with aristocratic 
 families. Only, as you have often remarked, the 
 trouble with them is that Germans of the lower 
 classes are always unmistakable; but the Amer-
 
 Plays for Position 43 
 
 ican wives of the high-born soon acquire the 
 manners of nobility." 
 
 This was a shot out of her own locker. The 
 good frau gave Grethel explicit directions for 
 serving the refreshments, dusted the flour from 
 her fingers, unfastened her voluminous kitchen 
 apron, and heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 " Ach, himmel! It is the truth you tell, Al- 
 lant. In the Fatherland people are born low or 
 high, and they cannot be changed by marriage. 
 We require deference from our inferiors, and 
 we give honor to those above us, with our God- 
 appointed Kaiser ruling high over all." 
 
 " Yet when your sons do marry outside their 
 caste, American heiresses seem to make the 
 most satisfactory wives," thrust Thorpe. " How- 
 ever, you need have no fear for Kurt. Miss 
 Carew expects offers of titles. She will be able 
 to pick and choose. It was only that I thought 
 Kurt might possibly win her, with your help, 
 if he should be quick to grasp his opportunity. 
 But since you do not wish him to marry an 
 American, all you need do is to introduce her 
 to young men of title. From her point of view, 
 a count or a baron would of course be much 
 more eligible than Kurt." 
 
 Frau von Kissel paused beside the door, which 
 Thorpe had opened for her with a courtesy that 
 few German men would have extended to any 
 other than youth and beauty. 
 
 " Such over-politeness, Allant," she chided. 
 * ' Do not, I beg you. It is too French-like . . . 
 About your friend, we shall see. I do not 
 admit that any foreign fraulein is too good for
 
 44 The Blond Beast 
 
 Lieutenant von Kissel of the Imperial Guard. " 
 
 " She'd be the last to claim it, Tante. But if 
 she can make a far better match, can you blame 
 her? " 
 
 Satisfied by the thoughtful puckering of the 
 mother's severe lips, Thorpe inquired about 
 Elsa's graduation in as casual a tone as he 
 could effect. The reply was all too brief and 
 meagre. In Germany the affairs of a son are 
 vastly more important than those of a daugh- 
 ter. Thorpe had succeeded only too well in fix- 
 ing the mind of Frau von Kissel upon the for- 
 eign f raulein. This worked in his favor, however, 
 when they reached the parlor. 
 
 Lucy and Elsa were seated side by side on 
 the state sofa, chatting with the intimacy of old 
 friends. Elsa sprang up, shocked at the realiza- 
 tion of her incorrect behavior, while Lucy stif- 
 fened to hauteur under the severe eye of the 
 hostess. But when formally presented by 
 Thorpe, she met the buxom matron's greeting 
 with tactful graciousness. Even more tactfully 
 she caught at the frauds mention of kitchen and 
 household duties. 
 
 An inquiry regarding a picture enabled 
 Thorpe to maneuver Elsa to the far corner of 
 the parlor. No little skill was required to ac- 
 complish this. A single ardent word or look 
 would have alarmed the girl's modesty and sent 
 her edging back to shelter beside her mother. 
 But Thorpe was not a Continental lover. He 
 knew that the way to win the confidence of a shy 
 youngster is to divert attention from personal 
 topics. At nineteen Elsa was still an unsophis-
 
 Plays for Position 45 
 
 ticated child, naive and free from artifice. 
 
 The American's matter-of-fact manner and 
 genuine interest in her brother soon overcame 
 the girl's constraint. To her wonderment, she 
 found him almost as easy to talk to as Miss 
 Carew. He quoted approvingly many of Kurt's 
 views on the army and navy and the management 
 of estates; he extolled German music and sci- 
 ence; he pointed out the surprising truth that 
 cooking was a domestic form of chemistry and 
 hardly less important. By a strange and de- 
 lightful coincidence of tastes, he happened to 
 be most fond of the flowers that she mentioned 
 as her favorites. Close beside her in the niche 
 of the corner window, he gazed out at the masses 
 of bloom in the garden and expressed his esthetic 
 pleasure. She readily agreed to do a bit of bot- 
 anizing with him at the first opportunity. 
 
 The ring of the doorbell interrupted their de- 
 lightful tete-a-tete. Though Thorpe was more 
 than annoyed, he found consolation in the candid 
 disappointment that clouded Elsa's lovely eyes 
 as she rose to leave him. 
 
 The neighbor's servant, borrowed for the occa- 
 sion to attend the door, had not yet come up 
 from the kitchen. Elsa hastened to admit and 
 welcome the first of the reception callers, Prau 
 Herr Upper - Director - of - Posts - and - Dispatches 
 Hegelbaum. 
 
 Frau von Kissel broke off the conversation 
 with Lucy Carew that had rendered her oblivious 
 to Elsa and Thorpe. She sprang up to greet 
 the new caller. Lucy had not been so engrossed. 
 Her veiled glance had more than once found its
 
 46 The Blond Beast 
 
 way past the amplitude of her hostess to the 
 smiling couple in the corner window. Left alone, 
 she settled back on the state sofa, a picture of 
 serene composure. 
 
 Thorpe perceived only the outward insoucience 
 of his countrywoman. A smile of gleeful antici- 
 pation lightened the gloom of his frown. He had 
 not long to wait. With the firmness of a grena- 
 dier, Frau von Kissel took Lucy's arm and drew 
 the surprised girl up from the sofa. Frau Herr 
 Upper -Director - of-Posts - and-Dispatches Hegel- 
 baum was then ensconced on the throne of honor. 
 
 Her reign was brief. Next to arrive at the re- 
 ception was Elsa's godmother, the old Baroness 
 von Schlagel-Eisenen. Frau Upper-Director 
 promptly abdicated in favor of her superior in 
 rank. The borrowed servant girl now took Elsa's 
 place at the door. But the change proved of no 
 benefit to Thorpe. After the baroness the female 
 guests followed in flocks. The blushing daugH- 
 ter of the' house was required to stand fast 
 beside her mother and return thanks for the 
 congratulations and gifts brought by her well- 
 wishers. 
 
 Aside from the state sofa, however, there was 
 nothing formal about the reception. Hostess and 
 guests gave themselves over to general talk and 
 laughter. Lucy was presented to the fraus and 
 introduced to the frauleins. Whenever the other 
 guests understood that she was not English but 
 American, her inability to speak German met 
 with good-natured tolerance. 
 
 She drifted around to where Thorpe was ex- 
 changing dignified greetings with various fraus
 
 Plays for Position 47 
 
 of his acquaintance. A question about the gar- 
 den drew him away from them into the niche 
 of the window beside her. He could not see 
 her lowered eyes, but her red lips were parted 
 in a smile of ironical amusement. 
 
 " Two was company. . .After that the deluge," 
 she said. " You must feel lost in the flood of 
 hens and chickens." 
 
 " Help is near," he predicted with the assur- 
 ance of experience. " The other men will soon 
 arrive. It's about time for the refreshments... 
 You seem to make a hit with Tante von Kissel. 
 How about the tour? " 
 
 Lucy's smile became a trifle more ironical. 
 "No wonder you're impatient. The child is, 
 sweet enough to eat." 
 
 " Child? She's over nineteen." 
 
 " Nineteen months. She makes me think of a 
 duckling just out of the shell or a downy baby 
 swan, if that's more poetical to you." 
 
 Thorpe winced. " Don't, Loo. You've agreed 
 to be chums again. Stand by me. I I love 
 Elsa. I've got to win her... and I'm afraid I 
 can't without your help." 
 
 Lucy faced away to gaze out into the garden, 
 her smile fading. 
 
 " Is it as bad as that really? " she bantered 
 as she turned to meet his anxious gaze, cool- 
 eyed and smiling. " Buck up, old fellow, I al- 
 ready have Mama Kissel feeding out of my 
 hand. You needn't fancy, though, I'll invite 
 the family for my tour until I've had another 
 look at Herr Lieutenant Kurt."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE HIGH-BOBN COUNT 
 
 Elderly and middle-aged men who had com- 
 pleted their official duties for the day began to 
 arrive. Lucy's brows lifted as she saw how 
 fraus and frauleins hastened to give up the best 
 seats to the male guests. 
 
 Afternoon tea was now served, a bevy of 
 Elsa's young friends helping her hand around 
 the cups, together with generous platefuls of 
 rusks and little cakes. Thorpe mildly scandal- 
 ized the company by waiting upon himself and 
 Lucy. When, with well-loaded plates, he came 
 coasting back to their inset window, he found 
 her gazing demurely across the room. The ob- 
 ject was a handsome young officer unmistakably 
 like Elsa. 
 
 " Yes, you've spotted him that's Kurt," ral- 
 lied Thorpe. 
 
 Attracted by his beckoning gesture, the son 
 of the house glimpsed Lucy and hastened to 
 make his way through the crowd. His popularity 
 was evident from the number of friends herrs, 
 fraus and frauleins who sought to detain him. 
 With polite excuses, he passed all by and sprang 
 around the last group to clasp Lucy's hand in a 
 hearty American grip. 
 
 48
 
 The High-Born Count 49 
 
 < t 
 
 Miss Carew you here? ' he exclaimed. 
 " This is a very happy surprise! " 
 
 " Indeed, yes," she replied, a shade less cor- 
 dially than Thorpe could have wished. "Lan is 
 to blame for it. I broke some verbotens getting 
 to Berlin and had to call upon him to save me 
 from jail and the gallows I should say, the 
 headsman's ax. You Germans still chop off per- 
 sons' heads> I hear." 
 
 "A misunderstanding, Kurt all settled," 
 Thorpe quieted the deep concern of his friend. 
 " Miss Carew used her kodak at Essen. But I 
 think the police are satisfied." 
 
 The young officer smiled, and his mild eyes 
 sparkled. 
 
 " That's the stuff, Allan! Good move bring- 
 ing her to meet my mother. How long do you 
 plan to stay in Berlin, Miss Carew? You must 
 be our guest until you leave. If the city bores 
 you, we shall go to the old castle until cool 
 weather. You can then have the autumn in town 
 with us, and at Christmas " 
 
 Lucy burst into her amused laugh. 
 
 " I've heard of German hospitality, Mr. von 
 Kissel, but you exceed even your mother. She 
 has invited me for the summer." 
 
 " The kind mother! She has arranged it? 
 You will be with us? " 
 
 "I'll have to consider. My plans were made 
 for a tour," replied the girl, her gaiety sobering 
 as she glanced past her eager young host to 
 where Thorpe was turning on her his athletic 
 though unmilitary back. 
 
 Elsa was approaching, all a-flutter with joyous
 
 50 The Blond Beast 
 
 excitement. No less a personage than General 
 von Hausen, Chief of Staff to the Duke of Wurt- 
 temburg, had come with Baron von Schlagel- 
 Eisenen to her reception. He was asking for her 
 lieutenant brother. Kurt clicked his heels for 
 an abrupt bow to Lucy, and hastened off under 
 the guidance of his sister. 
 
 " That's the military of it," remarked Thorpe. 
 " The duke's army is quite distinct from that 
 of Prussia, yet you see how Kurt jumped at the 
 mere mention of an officer of the High Command. 
 It's a pity that one of his gentle spirit has to 
 be a cog in a war-machine." 
 
 ' 'But think of the gorgeous uniforms," 
 mocked the American girl. " They make our 
 men look like waiters." 
 
 Thorpe spoke up for his friend with loyal en- 
 thusiasm : 
 
 " There's no one better entitled to fine feath- 
 ers than Kurt. He's a splendid fellow, clean 
 and true and manly. Even Captain von Papp- 
 heim voted for him when, as is the custom, the 
 officers of his regiment decided whether he should 
 become one of its lieutenants." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he's nice enough; but you might say 
 as much for yourself, if you weren't so modest. 
 The point is, there must be others with titles 
 and higher rank, and if I'm to get value received 
 for my Yankee dollars, why, a mere second lieu- 
 tenant ' ' 
 
 The sudden break in the girl's ironical banter 
 and a slight narrowing of her eyes sent Thorpe's 
 glance darting across the room. Midway from 
 the door was the tall Prussian captain who had
 
 The High-Born Count 51 
 
 knocked Lucy into the gutter. He stood twirl- 
 ing an end of his up-crooked mustache, his steel- 
 blue eyes fixed upon the American fraulein in a 
 stare of cool assurance. The look expressed his 
 conviction that ample time had elapsed for her 
 to have realized the unseemliness of that penny 
 outrage on his dignity. 
 
 Frau von Kissel was deferentially introducing 
 the newly arrived guest to her meek and shrink- 
 ing daughter. Thorpe frowned. For Elsa even 
 to meet an officer of such insolence seemed to 
 him little short of desecration. The captain paid 
 slight heed to his hostess and scarcely more to 
 the lovely daughter of the house. After a per- 
 functory compliment to Elsa, he checked the 
 effusive remarks of her mother with a brusque 
 inquiry about her American guests. 
 
 Elsa slipped away unobserved, her artless face 
 disclosing to Thorpe's intent gaze how relieved 
 she was to escape. Frau von Kissel hastened 
 forward with her high-born guest. She pre- 
 sented the heart's friend of her beloved Kurt to 
 Herr Captain, Count Wolf von Pappheim. The 
 stiffness of the bows exchanged by the men was 
 unnoticed by their hostess. She was gazing per- 
 plexedly at the deliberately turned back of the 
 American girl. 
 
 1 i Fraulein, ' ' she remonstrated * ' Mees Ca- 
 rew, the will of Herr Captain " 
 
 " Pardon me, but I'm not a German girl, Frau 
 von Kissel," interrupted Lucy. " I must decline 
 to meet that man. He knows why." 
 
 The captain leaned towards Thorpe, and 
 peered at him menacingly.
 
 52 The Blond Beast 
 
 " You will advise the miss, n'est-ce pas? " 
 
 That big high-curved Prussian nose was most 
 tempting. Thorpe's fingers crooked. Sanity 
 and breeding enabled him to resist the impulse. 
 The apprehensive glance that Lucy turned upon 
 him was reassured by the quiet smile with which 
 he met the threat. 
 
 " If that is meant as a challenge, Herr Count," 
 he remarked, " the pleasure is mine of naming 
 machine-guns at five paces. " 
 
 The captain blinked. Was the American tri- 
 fling, or was he in deadly earnest. His smile 
 might be taken either way. The one certainty 
 was that he betrayed no trace of intimidation. 
 To draw one's sabre at a reception is not good 
 form, even for a taunted officer. 
 
 Count Wolf von Pappheim favored his hostess 
 with the full view of his purple-scarred face. 
 
 11 The fraulein is newly arrived, nicht? She 
 does not understand our customs. Because, 
 through ignorance, she is offended, I am willing 
 that you present to her my apologies." 
 
 Lucy also addressed the flustered frau: " Be 
 so kind as to reply that there are offenses for 
 which apologies are not acceptable." 
 
 The Prussian's face flamed scarlet; his close- 
 cropped tow hair bristled . . . But, immediately 
 upon his arrival at the reception, envious tongues 
 had clacked into his ear exaggerated accounts of 
 the American heiress's fortune. He had already 
 seen on the street that her face and form were 
 enravishing. To one surfeited with flaxen 
 blondes, there was a double fascination in the 
 foreign fraulein 's richly tinted skin and copper
 
 The High-Born Count 53 
 
 red hair. No less fascinating was the exquisite 
 charm of her costume in the roomful of large, 
 ill-dressed German ladies. 
 
 Herr Captain, Count Wolf von Pappheim, vis- 
 ibly checked himself on the verge of angry de- 
 nunciation. He clicked his heels and bowed low 
 to the obdurate fraulein. 
 
 " I beg to offer my profound apologies. The 
 collision was unpremeditated an accident I 
 give my word. Afterwards I misthought the 
 fraulein to be English. Pardon the error and 
 accept, I beg you, my most humble apologies." 
 
 Thorpe was almost as astonished as Frau 
 von Kissel. He knew how men of the count's 
 stamp looked down upon lauies even of their 
 own caste. Lucy neither knew nor cared. She 
 took the aristocrat's self-humiliation as coolly 
 as if he had been a young business clerk of 
 her home town. His behavior had been abom- 
 inable. . .However, he had pleaded difference of 
 custom and he had made a real apology. 
 
 1 1 If you wish, Frau von Kissel, you may intro- 
 duce him," she granted her permission with an 
 air of condescension that brought a deeper flush 
 into the count's face. 
 
 Thorpe's expression remained impeccably so- 
 ber. Lucy alone caught the momentary twinkle 
 in his eyes. The count was bending to her in a 
 bow meant to convey an impression of grateful- 
 ness. As he unbent he flashed at Thorpe a 
 glance like a rapier stab. The American's eyes 
 did not again twinkle. 
 
 Lucy perceived this. She also perceived the 
 concern of Frau von Kissel and its cause. With
 
 54 The Blond Beast 
 
 a few pleasant words she relieved her hostess by 
 putting the embarrassed officer at his ease. The 
 good frau bustled off, beaming her gratification. 
 The scandal of a scene had been averted, and 
 the herr count's anger was appeased. 
 
 As Von Pappheim opened a rather heavily 
 gallant conversation with his charming conquer- 
 ess, Thorpe looked about him with the intention 
 of joining Elsa, Before he could leave the cor- 
 ner, Lucy deftly prevented his escape by a re- 
 mark that brought him into a trio with her and 
 the displeased count, and so rounded out her 
 triumph. Her skill forced the Prussian into a 
 pretense of courteousness to the unwelcome for- 
 eign civilian. At the same time she goaded him 
 to rivalry by the friendly intimacy of her banter 
 with Thorpe. 
 
 The return of Kurt, boyishly eager to share 
 Miss Carew's company, gave Thorpe his oppor- 
 tunity to slip away. He presumed that the son 
 of the house would serve as well as himself for 
 Lucy's purpose and might be more interesting to 
 her, if not to Von Pappheim. 
 
 But as Thorpe started to leave, he was again 
 brought to a halt, this time by a teasing remark 
 from Lucy to the gallant captain. In true Prus- 
 sian style, Von Pappheim had been vaunting 
 the superiority of German governmental effi- 
 ciency. Heedless of the consequences to herself, 
 Lucy was puncturing the national conceit with 
 the taunt of how she had duped the secret serv- 
 ice agents. 
 
 Thorpe cut in and sought to check the disclo- 
 sure at the point where the girl told about the
 
 The High-Born Count 55 
 
 apparent destruction of the film. Lucy either 
 could not or would not perceive his warning 
 hints. She went on to relate in full detail how 
 she had obliterated the substituted film and made 
 sure of her Krupp pictures by dropping them 
 into the embassy dispatch-pouch. Thorpe's at- 
 tempts to silence her made him appear to be 
 the consciously guilty accomplice of her act of 
 espionage. 
 
 He affected to make light of the affair 
 
 " You see how little we know about such mat- 
 ters in America, Captain. Miss Carew still thinks 
 she has played a gay joke on your police. She 
 doesn't realize you'll have her court-martialed, 
 and shot at sunrise for the high crime of Use 
 majeste." 
 
 Kurt von Kissel's cheeks had lost their girlish 
 rosiness. There was unmistakable dread in the 
 look that he turned upon his senior officer. Von 
 Pappheim was still regarding Lucy with utmost 
 gallantry. Though his hard eyes had narrowed 
 ever so slightly when she thrust at him how 
 she had outwitted the Imperial police, he uttered 
 no word of denunciation as Kurt and Thorpe 
 both expected. On the contrary, he met Thorpe 's 
 sally with a loud laugh. 
 
 " Ach! So clever a little teaser! " he flung 
 at Lucy in a half rueful, half gallant tone. " It 
 is well you are not a Russian or French or Eng- 
 lish fraulein. That would mean a sad duty for 
 your most ardent admirer to perform. But be- 
 cause you are American, it is certain your act 
 was due only to innocent playfulness, n'est-ce 
 pas? "
 
 56 The Blond Beast 
 
 Lucy accepted the assurance with careless in- 
 difference. Not so Kurt von Kissel. He bent 
 close to her, his eyes still dark with anxiety. 
 
 " Will you not write an order, Miss Carew, for 
 the film to be delivered in Paris to the German 
 embassy? That would clear you entirely." 
 
 " But it's so utterly silly for anyone to try to 
 make me out a spy," said Lucy. " Count von 
 Pappheim understands. I gave those impertinent 
 detectives what they deserved. Had they acted 
 like gentlemen, I'd have handed over the pic- 
 tures. Now I shall keep every one." 
 
 Good most good, fraulein. Your spirit 
 has my high esteem," approved Von Pappheim. 
 " Hold fast to what is yours. There need be 
 nothing more said about the views. May I re- 
 quest permission to call at your hotel? ' 
 
 The adroit move was met no less skillfully 
 
 "It is kind of you to ask, Captain. Only I 
 shall have no hotel. Mrs. von Kissel has invited 
 me for a visit." 
 
 " Most delightful," said the count, with a 
 flatness of tone that belied the words. ' The 
 pleasure shall be mine of calling often at the 
 home of my esteemed young friend Von Kissel." 
 
 Kurt acknowledged this piece of condescension 
 with the required phrases of hospitality. Fol- 
 lowed a clicking of heels, a salute, the gallant 
 kissing of Lucy's hand by the count, and his 
 withdrawal into the throng of departing guests. 
 
 Left alone a brief period with Lucy, Thorpe 
 went at her with brotherly brusqueness: 
 
 " Good Lord, Loo; have you gone clean dotty? 
 It was bad enough, your snapping those views.
 
 The High-Born Count 57 
 
 But to go and tattle on yourself to a man like 
 Pappheim! These officers are taught to worship 
 the State. He's the kind to put the worst pos- 
 sible construction on your little joke... Or if he 
 doesn't accuse you as a spy, he may use his 
 knowledge as a club, a la caveman, in case he 
 wants to marry a fortune. There's a rumor 
 that his gambling debts are heavy and his 
 estates mortgaged to the hilt." 
 
 The girl lifted her shoulders in her newly 
 acquired French shrug. 
 
 " Why so excited? I'm not yet promised to 
 your dear Kurt. What if I should permit the 
 bogey man to catch me? He must be ranked 
 pretty high among the local crop of eligibles. 
 Did you notice how the angelic frauleins glared 
 at me and the manner of Mama Kissel when 
 she introduced Gold Elsie to him? You'll be 
 safer if I lure him away from your particular 
 indigo-eyed ' ' 
 
 " Cut it!" exclaimed Thorpe. "She's safe 
 from him, thanks be! Has only a small dot. It's 
 you, Loo. As Kurt would say, you had both 
 the tactical and strategic advantage over the 
 noble count. It's not alone your beauty. He 
 needs money. But now you've given him the 
 whip handle, and he's apt to use the lash. Don't 
 forget you've made him eat crow. He's the kind 
 who'll smash, if he can't dominate. Remember, 
 there on the street." 
 
 Lucy essayed a Parisian uptilt of her dainty 
 shoulders more nonchalant than the first. 
 
 * * I shall endeavor to take care of myself as 
 usual. It's well for a woman to know before-
 
 58 The Blond Beast 
 
 hand what her husband is capable of doing. 
 There would be the advantage that Count von 
 Pappheim would have no surprises for me." 
 
 " Don't joke, Loo. The man is impossible as 
 the husband of an American girl." 
 
 " Really? Well, even at that, I fail to see 
 that it is any concern of yours." 
 
 Thorpe did not reply. To avoid feeling con- 
 cern for his old friend and one-time chum was 
 more easily said than done. But if she denied 
 him the right of friendship, what other right 
 had he to interfere? 
 
 She awaited his rejoinder with an eagerness in 
 her half lowered eyes that he took for ready com- 
 bativeness. When, without speaking, he faced 
 away to smile at the approaching Elsa, the cor- 
 ners of her firm-set challenging lips curved 
 down in a pensive droop. 
 
 All the other guests had gone. As Kurt nur- 
 ried his mother back from the door, he told her 
 that Miss Carew had consented to become their 
 house guest. The deeply gratified frau beamed 
 no less delightedly than Elsa over the joyous 
 news. They would not hear of Lucy's returning 
 to tbe hotel even to settle her bill.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 STIRRING UP THE TIGERS 
 
 The week that followed played havoc with 
 Thorpe's attendance at the university. But he 
 tossed a bone to his scientific conscience by bot- 
 anizing Elsa's flowers and gravely explaining to 
 her the various chemical reactions of cooking. 
 These prosaic talks and his avoidance of open 
 ardor led Frau von Kissel to believe that his 
 interest in Elsa was no more than brotherly. He 
 had not asked permission to woo . . . The preoc- 
 cupation of the good lady over Kurt was further 
 reason for her failure to realize that the Amer- 
 ican was courting her daughter along the lines 
 of least resistance. 
 
 Elsa was intensely domestic. She could be 
 won only by successive passage through the gate- 
 ways of her confidence, esteem, friendship and 
 affection. Thanks to his standing with her 
 mother and brother and to his abstention from all 
 gallantry, Thorpe attained his first objective 
 within a week. Elsa came to trust him as she 
 trusted Kurt, and, in the candor of her artless- 
 ness, she made no attempt to conceal her grow- 
 ing fondness for him. 
 
 But Frau von Kissel was by this time more 
 than ever engrossed over her son and their house 
 
 59
 
 60 The Blond Beast 
 
 guest. As Thorpe had foreseen, the honest 
 matron had required only the briefest of acquaint- 
 ances with Lucy to forget her prejudice against 
 international marriages so far as sons were 
 concerned. In the German sense of the term, 
 Lucy was not accomplished. She had taken a 
 course in domestic science. But her tastes were 
 not domestic, and she frequently displayed a 
 shocking irreverence towards authority. Yet 
 she had a way with her that even race and caste 
 could not resist. There was also her beauty and 
 
 fortune. . 
 
 Kurt had needed no parental urgmgs to begin 
 his suit. By the second day he was heels over 
 head in love with their charming guest, 
 that Lucy had sought to be fascinating, bhe 
 had treated him with the same offhand friendli- 
 ness that she showed towards Thorpe, promising 
 no more than she gave. Even his mother could 
 not say that he had any right to be aggrieved by 
 the attentions that she permitted from the some- 
 what arrogantly ardent Count von Pappheim 
 
 The situation reached a crisis m the midst ol 
 the motor rides and concerts and other simple 
 entertainments. Von Pappheim managed to pro- 
 cure for Miss Carew with Frau von Kissel as 
 chaperon an invitation to the garden fete of a 
 Highness. Lucy proved to be the most beautitul 
 and charming girl present, and she was so uncon- 
 sciously lacking in awe of royalty that a certain 
 exalted heir known for his gallantries dubbed 
 her the American Princess. The attention from 
 this imperial direction not only disquieted Von 
 Pappheim but inflamed him to redoubled ardor.
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 61 
 
 Frau von Kissel was correspondingly de- 
 pressed. 
 
 " Ach, Hebe fraulein," she sighed when, above 
 the home threshold, the count kissed Lucy's 
 hand and took his leave. " For you to have 
 been complimented by His Imperial Highness! 
 You are too splendid for such poor folk as we. 
 My Kurt he will be sad.*' 
 
 Lucy patted the mother's plump arm. 
 
 " Why cross bridges before you come to them? 
 My motto is, Pleasure before Business. I'm in 
 no hurry to marry. I came abroad to enjoy my- 
 self. What do you say to motoring through 
 France, Italy and Switzerland with me? " 
 
 The frau's blue eyes suffused with tears. 
 
 " Fraulein, the longing of my life has been to 
 make the grand tour. You are most kind. If 
 I could but leave my beloved children! " 
 
 *' But why leave them? The more the mer- 
 rier. It's double fun to have friends along. If 
 you go, I can get Lan Thorpe to personally con- 
 duct the party.'* 
 
 " All as your guests, fraulein? so many! 
 The expense " 
 
 " A trifle." 
 
 " You say it only a trifle. . .Ach! Ach! mein 
 lieber Kurtzie! To get leave of absence is not 
 so easy for a staff lieutenant." 
 
 " Well, he can at least try. Elsa says he's not 
 had a holiday since his promotion, and that 
 Colonel van Houses " 
 
 " Vait! Vait!" interrupted the shocked frau. 
 " You should say, Herr General von Hausen." 
 
 " Oh, a rose by any other name, you know
 
 62 The Blond Beast 
 
 The point is, he spoke well of some idea of 
 Kurt's about lightening the soldiers' packs." 
 
 " Ja, the boy wants to ease the load. Count 
 von Pappheim says it is a foolishness. He says 
 the cattle need big loads to keep them down where 
 they belong. The general he says, 'Nein. With 
 cartridges we will replace what weight Kurt 
 takes off the pack. So much more lead for the 
 enemy when Der Tag comes, nicht? ' You see, 
 Hebe fraulein, how the army works so hard 
 always to become more efficient. It is for the 
 Fatherland... But the general is of the Wurt- 
 temburg High Command. He is not of the Prus- 
 sian. That is sad for Kurt." 
 
 Lucy smiled and shrugged. Like most persons 
 of decisiveness, she disliked being forced to an 
 issue, and Von Pappheim had begun to press his 
 suit with over-urgent ardor. In the morning she 
 made her suggestion of the tour direct to Kurt. 
 He caught at the possibility of ridding himself 
 for a time of the man he considered his most 
 dangerous rival. His visions of the tour in 
 company with his beloved one were no less bliss- 
 ful than Thorpe's anticipations of joy in the 
 companionship of Elsa. 
 
 He hastened to apply for a month's leave of 
 absence. That evening Von Pappheim called to 
 express his condolences. He had been spoken to 
 about the application, and had put in a good 
 word for his esteemed young friend, but he 
 feared the leave would not be granted. 
 
 "What a shame! Think of their being so 
 strict in peaceful times like these," exclaimed 
 Lucy. She added, not altogether jokingly, "I'll
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 63 
 
 have to drop the Crown Prince a note. I know 
 he'd let Mr. von Kissel go if 7 asked him." 
 
 Even Thorpe joined in the startled protests 
 against such a shocking breach of etiquette. Lucy 
 ignored him and the others to smile archly into 
 Von Pappheim's jealous eyes. 
 
 " Oh, but that's the beauty of it, you see," 
 she rallied. "I'm supposed to be quite ignorant 
 about court and military etiquette, and I'll men- 
 tion that Kurt knows nothing of my request. 
 Besides, if I'm an American princess, why 
 shouldn't I enjoy the privileges of my rank? " 
 
 Frau von Kissel herself perceived that further 
 remonstrance would serve only to make her will- 
 ful guest the more determined. Count von Papp- 
 heim set his lean florid jaw and made persistent 
 attempts throughout the remainder of the even- 
 ing to obtain a tete-a-tete with the heiress. Lucy 
 betrayed no desire to avoid his attentions. Yet, 
 somehow, both in the house and out among the 
 moonlit flower beds, either Kurt or his mother 
 kept near her until the baffled captain gave over 
 the siege and reluctantly took his leave. 
 
 Thorpe had lingered in the hall behind the 
 others for his parting with Elsa, As he passed 
 out with Kurt, Lucy was unconsciously wiping 
 the back of the hand that the count had saluted. 
 She gaily held up both her hands for the good- 
 night clasps of the friends. They swung out 
 side by side into the moonlight and left her 
 standing in the shadow of the doorway. 
 
 Thorpe was almost as concerned as his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Well, the best thing is to get her across the
 
 64 The Blond Beast 
 
 border as soon as we can. It's up to you to 
 pull all your wires for that leave." 
 
 Kurt winced. " Perhaps I may win permis- 
 sion to join you later. She must go at once." 
 
 To this Thorpe heartily agreed. But when, 
 the next day, they urged the new plan upon 
 Lucy, she laughed at their apprehensions. 
 
 11 Oh, I'll chance the lord high executioner and 
 his big bright broadax. Civilized people no 
 longer starve women... They give them forcible 
 feeding. And everyone I meet keeps reminding 
 me that Germany is the most civilized of all 
 countries. So why should I be afraid? Just to 
 show you, I'll stir up the tigers by cutting that 
 motor ride with the count and going to Lan's 
 
 lecture. ' ' 
 
 The announcement did not tend to lessen the 
 anxiety of the friends. Von Pappheim was not 
 the kind of man one trifles with. Yet Kurt could 
 not feel other than pleased. The plan had been 
 for him to go to the university with Thorpe and 
 Elsa while his mother chaperoned Lucy on her 
 outing with the count. 
 
 Thorpe was a Prussian year distant from his 
 life as an American undergraduate. When Lucy 
 inquired about the lecture, he replied with real 
 enthusiasm that the eminent president of the 
 Imperial University was to favor the public with 
 an open address on the spirit of Deutschland. 
 He went on to explain that, like the pastors of 
 the State Church, the university professors were 
 all officials under direct governmental super- 
 vision, and their utterances were therefore 
 doubly authoritative. Lucy made no other com-
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 65 
 
 ment than to lift her dark eyebrows. At the 
 lecture, however, even her doubting spirit was 
 convinced by the glow of fervor to which the 
 great audience was fired by the Pan-Germanic 
 visionings of the shag-bearded professor. 
 
 From the first grandly sweeping sentence al- 
 most to the peroration Thorpe smiled in sympa- 
 thetic accord with Elsa's rapt appreciation of 
 her country's laudation. Even Lucy approved 
 many of the patriotic sentiments proudly inter- 
 preted to her by Kurt. But then, from the 
 majestic height of his rhetorical climax, the now 
 passionately exalted speaker hurled a thunder- 
 bolt that jarred to life every nerve of Thorpe's 
 dormant Americanism: 
 
 " The State is supreme. . .It is above all mor- 
 ality and the Emperor is the head of the 
 State. To sustain him in his divinely appointed 
 authority there are three P's that must be put 
 down and kept down Parliament, People and 
 Press! " 
 
 The storm of applause that greeted this dictum 
 muffled Thorpe's hot protest to Kurt: 
 
 " What rot! Didn't know that Whiskers was 
 an anachronistic fossil. Let him blether ! Divine 
 right has been dead and buried a century or 
 more. Your Socialists will soon show him." 
 
 Kurt smiled back at his angered friend. 
 
 Under the uplifted hand of the orator the audi- 
 ence was hushing to breathless silence. At the 
 close of the somewhat flat peroration, Lucy 
 brought the ecstatic Elsa to earth with a com- 
 ment on a particularly inartistic hat. Thorpe 
 adroitly edged in a remark that she must be
 
 66 The Blond Beast 
 
 eager to see the new Parisian styles. Lucy's 
 assent was so keen that he and Kurt exchanged 
 smiles of relief. A little more, and she would 
 flit over the frontier, safe beyond annoyance 
 from the Prussian secret service. 
 
 They were still happy in this thought when 
 her car brought the party whirling into the Von 
 Kissel drive. Beside the entrance was waiting 
 the big gray car of Count von Pappheim. Lucy 
 smiled at her grave-faced companions. 
 
 " Maybe I stirred up the tigers before ^they 
 arrived, but they don't seem to have stirred 
 since. Let's go in and hear them roar." 
 
 Von Pappheim was seated, sternly erect, be- 
 tween the perturbed Frau von Kissel and^ an 
 empty bottle of her choicest wine. At sight 
 of the party he paused in the adjustment of the 
 boar's tusk points of his ash-yellow mustache, 
 pocketed the mirror and comb, and rose to frown 
 down at Lucy from his full height. The impres- 
 sive effect was spoiled by Lucy's seeming obliv- 
 iousness to his displeasure. 
 
 " Delightful day, Herr Count, isn't it? I see 
 you've been holding the ^fort. So good of you 
 to entertain Mrs. von Kissel." 
 
 " I came to keep the appointment I had with 
 Fraulein Carew," stiffly replied Von Pappheim. 
 " That's so that spin of ours out to Pots- 
 dam to see the palace while the Kaiser is at Kiel. 
 Now it's too late." 
 
 " You have spoken truth, fraulem," jerked 
 out the captain, his eyes glinting like the steel 
 of his sword sheath. " The Emperor will return 
 swiftly from his yachting. Soon all Deutschland
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 67 
 
 shall shudder at the deed of hideous frightful- 
 ness whose results are destined to shake the 
 world. The vile, treacherous Serb swine have 
 most foully assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdi- 
 nand, heir to the double throne of Austria- 
 Hungary. " 
 
 Kurt and his mother uttered exclamations of 
 horrified pity and indignation, in which Thorpe 
 rather mildly joined. Elsa gazed at the bearer 
 of the startling news with the wide open eyes 
 and parted lips of a wondering child. Lucy alone 
 showed indifference. 
 
 " Isn't that just like those Austrian arch- 
 dukes? " she remarked. " They're always com- 
 mitting suicide or running off with actresses or 
 getting shot. I suppose this will mean another 
 ugly little Balkan war. After grabbing most of 
 the territory freed by the Serbians from the 
 Turks, and then blocking their window on the 
 Adriatic, I suppose the Austrian bully will catch 
 at the pretext to jump on the little fellow he 
 has wronged." 
 
 Von Pappheim's florid hatchet face was crim- 
 son with outraged pride of race and caste. A 
 burst of harsh criticism was in order. But to the 
 surprise of all except Lucy, he restrained his 
 wrath and spoke with a show of gallant tolerance. 
 
 " The fraulein is American, and so should be 
 excused for her ignorance. She does not realize 
 that the Austrians, though the lesser breed, are 
 yet of our noble Deutsch race, while the Serbs 
 are no more than Slavic swine. They have proved 
 their murderous vileness in this crime against 
 royalty, which is of personal concern to me and
 
 68 The Blond Beast 
 
 to you, fraulein. Of that, with your kind per- 
 mission, I would speak to you in private." 
 
 Even to Elsa the count's purpose was evi- 
 dent in the avid ardor and rapacity of his look. 
 Lucy met it without the slightest change in her 
 air of cool aplomb. She turned her gaze around 
 past the anxious Kurt to Thorpe. His assured 
 smile told not only that he was confident she 
 would refuse the request, hut also that he felt 
 no rivalry towards the Prussian. Her cheeks 
 lost a trifle of color and as quickly flushed to a 
 shade above their usual rose, as she gave her 
 gracious reply to the eager suitor: 
 
 " I am sure, my dear Count, a tete-a-tete on 
 the subject would be very interesting." 
 
 Kurt covered his distress by the excuse that 
 he must hasten off to learn the details of the 
 assassination. His mother withdrew to the 
 kitchen. Thorpe promptly seized the opportu- 
 nity for a tete-a-tete of his own with Elsa in 
 the garden. 
 
 Left alone with Lucy, the count escorted her 
 to a chair, seated himself very near, and im- 
 pressed an ardent kiss upon her gloved hand. 
 
 " Fraulein, I had intended to wait longer. 
 Now my will is to speak. That what do you 
 say? that lucky misplay of the fool Serbs has 
 lighted the fuse of the great bomb. Our press 
 and our diplomats may make denial it is their 
 part to lie and raise a dust but Der Tag ^ is 
 now dawning. Perhaps its red sun may rise 
 in a week, perhaps in half a year." 
 
 " Der Tag? " queried Lucy. " What's that? ' 
 " Ach, you shall know! It is The Day the
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 69 
 
 Time when all Deutschland shall spring up in 
 shining armor; shall crush the hated underling 
 nations with the might of the mailed fist; shall 
 sweep clear with the sword a wide place in the 
 sun. Deutschland iiber Alles! " 
 
 11 You mean you can't mean that Germany 
 will go to war! " 
 
 " All is arranged. Der Tag will now soon 
 be set. First we will sweep over weak, degen- 
 erate France; then we will take so much of 
 Russia as we choose. After that the Engldnder 
 schweine. With the French and Russian fleets 
 added to our own, we will cross over the Channel 
 through the boastful British fleet. As for the 
 contemptible little British army pfui! " 
 
 " 0-oh I see," murmured Lucy. " But my 
 country how about America? " 
 
 Von Pappheim masked the rapacious glint in 
 his steel-blue eyes and smiled ingratiatingly. 
 
 " Americans care only for trade and money. 
 They do not threaten us. We wish only to win 
 our rightful place in the sun. When we have 
 done that and freed the seas from the tyranny 
 of the British navy, we will take Canada and 
 be your good friends and protectors. I speak 
 now because Der Tag is dawning. I wish not 
 to wait. As Deutschland and America shall 
 unite, so also my will now is that we unite. 
 Liebe fraulein, I have the high honor of asking 
 for your hand in marriage." 
 
 Lucy musingly slipped off a glove and ran 
 her dainty fingertips along the fluff of hair 
 under her hat brim. Her green eyes looked the 
 avidly eager suitor and his gorgeous uniform
 
 70 The Blond Beast 
 
 up and down as though with calm appraisal. 
 
 " Well, I'm not altogether sure," she at last 
 replied. " You see, I'm my own man of busi- 
 ness. I have to consider everything. You have 
 your title. But I fancy I represent ^ something 
 more than my money, and, in my opinion " 
 
 " Ja, ja, llebe fraulein, most charming frau- 
 lein! " broke in Von Pappheim, all smiles and 
 gallantry and hot ardor. " You have beauty, 
 grace, style, verve. You will make a greatly-to- 
 be-desired frau." 
 
 " You really think so? " 
 
 " How else? Ach, liebe fraulein, it is then all 
 agreed... except the dot. Your fortune -it is 
 twenty million marks, nichtf " 
 
 The hand with which Lucy was still caressing 
 her hair paused and then came down across her 
 face, politely to hide an ennuied yawn. 
 
 " Ah, pray pardon me, Herr Count," she mur- 
 mured. " That lecture on the grandeur of 
 Deutschland, you know The beating of the big 
 bass drum always has the effect of wearying 
 
 me." 
 
 Von Pappheim stiffened. ' We are engaged 
 in the needed settlement of the betrothal terms. 
 The matter is most serious, fraulein." 
 
 " Indeed, it is," agreed Lucy. ' Bather too 
 much so. Tante von Kissel has been lecturing 
 me on the duties of a German wife. She tells 
 me Majestdt and all his dutiful male subjects 
 believe that woman's sphere should be limited 
 to church, children and kitchen. Well, 7 believe 
 in woman suffrage and in my ability to manage 
 myself and my fortune. And I do not believe
 
 Stirring Up the Tigers 71 
 
 in marriage on the European plan. I must 
 therefore decline with thanks the high honor you 
 would confer upon me." 
 
 The bolt struck Von Pappheim a stunning blow 
 square in the center of his arrogant pride. For 
 several moments he stared as if unable to credit 
 his own ears. 
 
 " Donnerwetter! " he muttered. " You would 
 refuse me a count of Imperial Prussia? It is 
 not possible! You a low girl of no birth! 
 Nein! nein! " 
 
 In Germany a rejected suitor is said to be 
 given the basket. Lucy had heard this. She 
 picked up Elsa's sewing box and offered it to 
 the lordly Prussian. He struck it from her hand 
 and sprang to his feet, livid with rage. 
 
 " Pfuil " he hissed. " Jilt! To flirt with me 
 lead me on! Gott! I despise you beyond all 
 measure! " 
 
 Lucy tilted her brows in a look of pensive 
 resignation. 
 
 " Dear me! I am so sorry. I wanted to say 
 that first. If only you were capable of realizing 
 what I think of noble counts who knock ladies 
 into the gutter and then offer them insulting 
 attentions! I tried to make allowances, thinking 
 you may have been intoxicated. But now I 
 see" 
 
 " Silence! you coquette you you cocotte! " 
 shouted Von Pappheim, beside himself with fury. 
 11 You think you could play with me and cast 
 me aside with derision. Wait you shall learn 
 different. ' ' 
 
 11 Too bad you have to take it so hard," com-
 
 72 The Blond Beast 
 
 miserated Lucy. "I'd have thought a heroic 
 captain and noble count of Imperial Prussia 
 would be more game. What must you go! 
 You're forgetting your basket." 
 
 Von Pappheim stalked out, enraged beyond 
 speech, his boot heels jarring on the polished 
 floor.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 HIS LEAVE OF ABSENCE 
 
 Kurt came home to dine, grave but bravely 
 endeavoring to conceal his depression. For the 
 first time in his acquaintance with Lucy, he 
 took her hand and raised it to his lips in the 
 Continental fashion. He chose the left hand. 
 His gaze fixed upon the third finger in gloomy 
 expectation. It was bare of rings. He caught 
 the slender hand fast in a quivering clasp. 
 
 "Miss Carew! you you have not... Von 
 Pappheim! ' 
 
 Lucy smiled. " How about your leave? " 
 
 " Then it is true!... But my leave " The 
 glowing face of the young officer clouded. " I 
 fear there is less chance than ever. That fright- 
 ful murder of the Archduke and his wife all 
 the newspapers are aflame with it. The authori- 
 ties and the inspired press wish to quiet the 
 excitement. Yet at such a time leaves of absence 
 are not granted. They are cancelled." 
 
 " I suppose that's true. The herr count said 
 Germany will now set the date for beating up 
 all Europe. If I believed him, I'd take the next 
 steamer home. But it can't be possible. It's so 
 utterly insane so so silly ! " 
 
 Kurt nodded in hearty assent. 
 
 73
 
 74 The Blond Beast 
 
 " The militarists have brooded too much over 
 the writings of Treitschke and Bernhardi. They 
 would make war for war's sake. The Crown 
 Prince is of their party." 
 
 " Yes, he told me. I thought he was only 
 trying to show off." . . 
 
 " He told you! Be sure he was not 3okmg. 
 The militarists have forgotten how to laugh - 
 especially when war is the topic. Thank God, 
 we may have every confidence in our peace- 
 loving Emperor to restrain their plans. 
 now dear Miss Carew, hasten to enjoy your 
 tour of the lands across the Rhine June is 
 almost gone. Switzerland will be at its best 
 m mid-summer. You will give great .pleasure to 
 the dear mother and Elsa, and I shall hope 
 
 30 ThegirPs e eyes narrowed a line and her smile 
 
 Ch Twill not start with your seat empty You 
 
 forget that Lan will have eyes ^^^ft. 
 
 The refusal to o without him so thrilled the 
 
 however, was redoubled. 
 
 " Yet you should not delay," he urged. Ber- 
 lin in summer is all too dull. There are dehght- 
 fuVbaths just across the border in Belgium." 
 
 "Oh I'm not yet in need of a cure -even 
 for ennui," rallied Lucy. " Why this eagerness 
 to drive me away? I begin to suspect you wish 
 
 ^Itt ftSTJKBfc omitted Kurt 
 his face very grave. " I wish to drive you safe
 
 His Leave of Absence 75 
 
 over the frontier into France or Belgium. You 
 have rejected Captain von Pappheim. He knows 
 about your thoughtless snapshots. He has 
 friends in the High Command. You may be 
 subjected to great annoyance if not worse." 
 
 Lucy's eyes flashed. " He would not dare. 
 The American ambassador ' ' 
 
 " Is away," broke in Kurt. " For you to 
 be forced into prison, even though for a single 
 day, would not be easy to bear." 
 
 4< They'd do that? Try to scare me? How 
 foolish they are! Why it's the very thing to 
 make me feel like never giving up those pictures. 
 I'd have been only too willing to turn over 
 every one, there at the first, if they had sent a 
 gentleman to ask for them in a quiet way." 
 
 "It is the army training, that brusqueness. 
 But the thought of your danger... If only you 
 would cross over into France or Belgium or 
 Switzerland ! ' ' 
 
 The defiant lustre in Lucy's eyes softened to 
 insoucient languor. 
 
 " You forget I'm American. Even herr count 
 admitted that your war dogs have no bone to 
 pick with my country. It's absurd to think any- 
 one will bother me over those little snapshots." 
 
 Kurt was silenced until, during dinner, Lucy 
 let the others know that she had declined the 
 proposals of Von Pappheim. Elsa and her 
 mother could not conceal their delight, and they 
 naively disclosed its mainspring by beaming their 
 congratulations at Kurt. He sought to divert 
 attention from himself by telling why Lucy 
 should hasten out of Germany.
 
 76 The Blond Beast 
 
 But Lucy held firmly to her determination to 
 delay her departure until Kurt should obtain 
 his leave. To argue was futile. Kurt realized 
 the fact almost as clearly as Thorpe. But neither 
 was prepared to give up his efforts to help the 
 willful girl, while waiting for Von Pappheim to 
 strike. Thorpe called at the American legation, 
 and in the absence of the ambassador, consulted 
 with the charge d'affaires. He learned that there 
 was no way in which the arbitrary police could 
 be prevented from arresting Lucy if she were 
 accused of espionage. The best that Thorpe 
 could do was to obtain an assurance of diplo- 
 matic intervention after she had been taken into 
 
 custody. . 
 
 Kurt's efforts promised even less. Upon ms 
 first return from service at headquarters, he 
 brought the ill news that his application for leave 
 had been refused. A repetition of the request 
 brought him the humiliation of an official repri- 
 mand. Yet in his fear for Lucy's safety, love so 
 spurred him that he ventured to write to General 
 von Hausen about his wish for a trip. 
 
 Hardly had the letter been posted when he 
 received an order relieving him from staff duty 
 and requiring him to report to his company 
 commander. Von Pappheim greeted him with 
 a smile of grim satisfaction, and gave command 
 to be left alone with Herr Lieutenant von Kissel. 
 When Kurt came hastening home, he aston- 
 ished all with the loud-voiced announcement that 
 he had been granted a month's leave His 
 mother and Elsa at once so overflowed with 
 joyful delight and enthusiasm for the tour that
 
 His Leave of Absence 77 
 
 Lucy could say nothing against an immediate 
 start. Her assent was clinched by Kurt's pessi- 
 mistic remark that it would be like his luck to 
 have his leave recalled after the first few days. 
 
 " Then we must whirl off with you, and crowd 
 every minute of your holiday full of fun," de- 
 clared Lucy. 
 
 Thorpe alone noticed that the outburst of 
 delight with which his friend took this was 
 rather over-acted. Behind the mask of gaiety, 
 that failed to set as well as it might on the 
 young officer 's frank face, Thorpe perceived deep- 
 ened concern, instead of the relief for which he 
 looked. His natural inference was that Kurt 
 had more reason that ever to fear a blow at 
 Lucy. The case against her would be all the 
 stronger if she were arrested at the frontier as 
 a fugitive. 
 
 This conjecture was, in Thorpe's opinion, 
 rather confirmed than refuted when the German 
 authorities formally viseed his own and Lucy's 
 passports with a readiness that indicated they 
 had received official instructions. 
 
 Yet when, after a swift run south across 
 Thuringia and Wurttemberg, the party came to 
 the Swiss frontier near Lake Constance, Thorpe 
 was most agreeably disappointed. Their passage 
 into Switzerland met with no other check than 
 the slight delay caused by a perfunctory exami- 
 nation of passports and baggage. Once across 
 the border, Thorpe heaved a deep breath of relief 
 over Lucy's escape, and gave himself up to the 
 delight of Elsa's company. 
 
 Several days passed before he observed that
 
 78 The Blond Beast 
 
 Kurt at times still betrayed signs of worry 
 
 under his outward glow of love and pleasure. 
 
 " Forget it," he urged. " Loo is safe now. 
 
 No reason why you should he so down in the 
 
 mouth." 
 
 " No reason? " sighed his friend. If you 
 hut knew! What if I am forced to if I am 
 recalled bef ore before I can ask her! ' 
 
 Thorpe smiled sympathetically. 
 
 " Faint heart ne'er won fair lady. Buck up. 
 This mountain climbing is better for muscles than 
 heart. But we'll soon be in Paris." ^ 
 
 But from the moment of the party's arrival, 
 Kurt's gaiety in the gayest of capitals was 
 forced. On the third day his last pretense of 
 enioyment broke down. Lucy had gone to the 
 American embassy with Elsa and Thorpe. Their 
 return found Frau von Kissel weeping and Kurt 
 despondently pacing the reception rooms of the 
 luxurious hotel suite. 
 
 "'AM achl" moaned the grieved mother. 
 He will not stay. He will go back to BeribL 
 " Don't tell me his leave has been recalled! 
 exclaimed Lucy with a warmth of regret that 
 brought Kurt a congratulatory glance from 
 
 Thoroe 
 
 But the young officer only winced and faced 
 away. His mother gazed at Lucy in tearful 
 
 reproach. ..*.* v 
 
 "His leave it was not recalled," she an- 
 swered. "Much worse it was. You should 
 know, fraulein." , 
 
 "Mother!" reproved Kurt with unwonted 
 sharpness. . ." Pardon us, Miss Carew, I beg ot
 
 His Leave of Absence 79 
 
 you. The mother has misunderstood. I have 
 other reasons that she cannot conjecture. I can- 
 not express how very sorry I am to go " 
 
 " But you're not going, " declared Lucy. 
 " We'll not give you leave. . .Will we, Elsa?. . . 
 We can't spare you, Kurt. We are to have 
 a house party. At the embassy, while Elsa and 
 Lan were cracking up Berlin to some American 
 multimillionaires, I met an old school friend 
 Polly Jones and her husband Etienne the 
 Duke of Montmar, you know. He is a major 
 of Turcos African troops and has been 
 ordered to Algeria. So Polly is going home for 
 a visit, and I'm to have the Castle of Montmar 
 as long as I wish. It's a grand old pile, some- 
 where south of the Marne, they say, not far 
 from a place called Fere Champenoise, and on 
 cool high ground among the pine hills." 
 
 " Ach, but there will be no joy without Kurt," 
 sighed Elsa. She leaned towards Thorpe with 
 confident appeal in her lovely blue eyes. " Per- 
 suade him to stay with us, dear friend." 
 
 The trustful tenderness of her look inspired 
 Thorpe. He smiled and thrust out at Kurt in 
 bantering challenge : ' ' You 're no quitter, old 
 man. You're not going to cut out and leave 
 us in the lurch without good reason. Either you 
 stick along, or you tell us why you must throw 
 us over." 
 
 Kurt's firm-set young jaw slackened; his pink 
 cheeks whitened. He turned away to hide the 
 fear that glinted in his clouded eyes. 
 
 " My reasons they are good. Yet I cannot 
 cannot tell them," he murmured. " Ach,
 
 The Blond Beast 
 
 himmel! To think I lack strength !... But I 
 must try... I will at least go as far as thi 
 
 castle ' ' 
 
 ' " Fine! " exclaimed Lucy. " Once we get you 
 there, Til clap you in the dungeon, and tten 
 you'll not be able to escape, even if you wish. 
 
 " That would be heavenly -for you to hold 
 me fast," said Kurt, with an earnestness that 
 brought an added tint of rose into Lucy's cheeks. 
 Elsa and her mother smiled their delight over 
 the blush. Only Thorpe perceived m Kurt s 
 reply something else than ardor. But he soon 
 forgot his concern over the hidden trouble of his 
 friend in the enjoyment of the peaceful pretty 
 countryside, with its quiet woodlands and well- 
 tilled grain fields, its toylike hamlets and genial, 
 vivacious French villagers. 
 
 Later, the car brought the party ^ up among 
 the rolling pine-clad hills of a high tab eland. 
 The Castle of Montmar proved to be all an 
 more than even Lucy had expected a grand 
 chateau of the Louis XV period crowning a 
 steep hill on the border of the Marshes of bt. 
 Gond. All about it were elaborate gardens 
 walled or hedged, with ponds and arbors and 
 paths that wound in and out among beds of 
 enchanting flowers. , 
 
 The interior of the castle, restored by the 
 wealth of its American countess, was little less 
 magnificent than a palace. Thorpe at first felt 
 Tt of place among such resplendent surround- 
 ings Within a few hours, however all the 
 visitors were moving about in the midst of their 
 semi-regal setting as if to the manor born.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE BOSS'S STEM 
 
 Throughout the long trip from Berlin to 
 Switzerland and down into France, Thorpe had 
 been satisfied to advance himself in Elsa's affec- 
 tions by imperceptible degrees. Now, however, 
 like her brother, he felt that the time had come 
 for decisive action. 
 
 At first he found difficulty in getting Elsa apart 
 from the others. Whenever the party divided, 
 Frau von Kissel very obviously refrained from 
 joining Kurt and Lucy. This left her each 
 time in the company of Thorpe and Elsa. 
 Whether or not she had divined the American's 
 intentions, the effect was the same. Thorpe had 
 also to contend with the timidity of the girl. 
 For all her artlessness, she had at last fully 
 awakened to the meaning of their " friendship. " 
 
 Several days passed before he found his oppor- 
 tunity. Frau von Kissel descended into the 
 kitchens of the castle and attempted to explain 
 to the chef the construction of certain German 
 dishes. The result was a headache. Elsa 
 soothed her to sleep, and then ventured out into 
 the rose garden, thinking that Thorpe had joined 
 her brother and Lucy on a motor drive to 
 Sezanne. 
 
 81
 
 82 The Blond Beast 
 
 She was pressing a half-blown Jacqueminot 
 bud to her exquisite lips when Thorpe came 
 through an opening in the high box hedge, not 
 three paces away. She smiled at him, startled 
 yet pleased. Then she saw the look in his eyes, 
 and drew back, her big blue eyes wide with 
 maidenly panic. 
 
 "Goose!" he chuckled in joyous banter. 
 " Don't try to fly away. It's no use. The sly 
 fox has you cornered at last and you know 
 you want to be caught. What? ' 
 
 At the smiling accusation the girl's fear gave 
 place to confusion. Her eyes drooped, and a 
 deep blush swept down her half-averted face. 
 
 "You darling! " cried Thorpe. ' If only you 
 could see yourself! Beside you that rose is a 
 poor faded weed." 
 
 Elsa flung out her hands in startled protest 
 and drew them back to hide her scarlet face. 
 
 "Ach! ach!" she moaned. 'You mock 
 you make play of me -you break my heart! 
 
 Thorpe affected Prussian curtness: What, 
 fraulein your heart broken? Then must it be 
 mended. Come here. March! ' 
 
 Elsa quivered and hesitated, between embar- 
 rassment ana renewed panic. But instinctive 
 obedience to authority impelled her forward. 
 With timid, faltering steps she crept towards 
 her lover, peeping up at him between her fingers 
 like a bashful child. 
 
 " So far, good. Now up with your hands, 
 he commanded, when she was within arms- 
 
 Y(*\ O (I 
 
 Blushing and trembling, with eyes downcast
 
 The Rose's Stem 83 
 
 and fair young bosom heaving, the girl raised 
 her hands to his shoulders in meek surrender. 
 He clasped her to him with such adoring tender- 
 ness that her large garden hat thrust back and 
 fell off. He kissed the crown of her bright hair. 
 
 " Gold Elsie beloved! " he whispered. " Tell 
 me you love me." 
 
 Her cheek pressed softly over his fast beating 
 heart. 
 
 " Ich Hebe dich Icli liebe dich! " she mur- 
 mured the sweet confession. 
 
 " Prove it. Salute auf" he commanded. 
 
 She obediently raised her rose-flushed face and 
 pressed her fragrant lips upon his in her first 
 tremulous kiss of love. 
 
 Thorpe kissed the silken fringe of her lowered 
 eyelids. " Look at me, beloved. You are now 
 my betrothed. We shall go, like good children, 
 and ask the blessing of your mother." 
 
 Elsa looked up but not to return his ardent 
 gaze with the tender love-light he expected. The 
 pupils of her beautiful eyes were dilating with 
 amazement and dismay. 
 
 " You have not told her before? You have 
 not first asked her permission?. . .Ach, Gott! 
 What have I done? To be so unmaidenly! so 
 undutiful! " 
 
 Thorpe resisted her gentle struggles to free 
 herself from his embrace. 
 
 " Hush," he soothed. " Be quiet, dear heart. 
 I have you fast, and I shall not let you go. 
 There's no need to grieve. I told Kurt months 
 ago. He wished me success. Your mother will 
 give her consent to our betrothal when she learns
 
 84 The Blond Beast 
 
 that you love me and knows that Kurt approves." 
 "Yet it is is not proper!" panted Elsa, 
 " Ach! the shame! You have not her permission. 
 She may refuse. . .And my dot is so little ! When 
 you see how little, you will not wish to wed so 
 poor a fraulein." 
 
 " Goose, goose, goose," tenderly reproached 
 Thorpe, and he caught her drooping head between 
 his hands. " This dear nubbin is, I fear, quite 
 empty; but on top of it is the most priceless of 
 yellow gold, and down below is a gold heart 
 overflowing with dutifulness and kindness and 
 love. What greater treasure could a bride have 
 for her dot? " 
 
 Tears gushed into the girl's uplifting eyes. 
 She flung up her arms again to clasp Thorpe's 
 neck in an ecstasy of devotion. 
 
 " I will work for you ach, so hard I will 
 work ! . . . Only only persuade the mother, that 
 I may wed you and serve you all my life ! ' 
 
 " She'll be glad to give us her blessing," con- 
 fidently predicted Thorpe. " Come. We'll go to 
 her now, and have our happy surprise all ready 
 to spring on Kurt and Lucy." 
 
 Elsa trembled, but docilely permitted him to 
 lead her around through the rose garden and 
 into the castle. 
 
 Frau von Kissel had wakened from her nap 
 and sent out one of the French maids to summon 
 Elsa. She lost her expectant smile when the 
 maid brought back word that Monsieur Thorpe 
 wished leave to present himself in the boudoir 
 with Mademoiselle von Kissel. Her usually kind 
 motherly face was severe as Elsa appeared, pale
 
 The Rose's Stem 85 
 
 and drooping, close beside her lover. Thorpe 
 clasped the hand that the frightened girl would 
 have drawn away from his arm. 
 
 " Here we are," he sang out, cheerfully dis- 
 regarding the chillness of their welcome. ' ' Dear 
 Tante, I've come to ask your blessing. I wish 
 the right to call you ' Liebe Mutter.' Elsa and 
 I have made the happy discovery that we love 
 each other. Tell us how soon I may wed her." 
 
 The frau's heavy face became still more severe. 
 
 " What is this? " she demanded in German. 
 " Have I lived to rear so undutiful a daughter? 
 Can it be true a fraulein of the Von Kissels is 
 without shame? Come away from the foreigner, 
 girl." 
 
 Stricken to the heart, Elsa slipped free from 
 Thorpe's clasp and ran to sink down on her 
 knees beside her mother's chair. Thorpe was 
 not so readily subdued. He faced the indignant 
 frau with cool determination. 
 
 " Is it wise or kind to speak in haste, Tante? " 
 he reproached. " At least you shall not blame 
 Elsa. She believed that I had your consent to 
 tell her of my love." 
 
 * ' You deceived her ? I would not have thought 
 it of you, Allant! " 
 
 " Not intentionally, but that was her belief. 
 She is innocent of all wrong. The fault, if any, 
 is mine and mine alone." 
 
 The mother's frown relaxed in a look of pro- 
 found relief. 
 
 " Ach, I should have known. For a daughter 
 of the Von Kissels to be undutiful, that would 
 be impossible."
 
 86 The Blond Beast 
 
 Elsa burst into a storm of joyous tears and 
 flung herself upon the ample bosom of her 
 mother. 
 
 1 ' You forgive me ! You are not angered ! 
 You will give your consent. . .Mother, I love him 
 with my whole heart, even as he loves me and 
 and he cares not that the dot is so little." 
 
 " It's not American to require dots, Tante," 
 cut in Thorpe. * l I went ahead and won Elsa 
 on the American plan. Forgive me for not first 
 asking your consent. Kurt was willing. You 
 see how Elsa loves me. Won't you give us your 
 blessing? " 
 
 The face of Frau von Kissel was again very 
 stern. 
 
 " Kurt did not tell me. He has been undutiful. 
 You have deceived me. What if it is the Ameri- 
 can custom? That is the worst. I will not 
 have a foreigner in my family." 
 
 " So you said before you met Miss Carew. 
 But since then ' ' 
 
 " A good friend you have spoilt, Allant 
 Thorpe," reproached the injured lady. " You 
 should know how different it was. A wife is 
 the property of her husband. Kurt's wife will 
 be a Prussian because he is a Prussian. But 
 Elsa I will not that a daughter of the Von 
 Kissels should be lost to the Fatherland. No 
 more shall I listen." 
 
 " I'll not ask you to," retorted Thorpe. " I 
 thought you'd be glad to make Elsa happy. You 
 know she loves me, and you know what I'm like. 
 All this time you've treated me as a son. You 
 know that I have Kurt's best wishes that he
 
 The Rose's Stem 87 
 
 and I are the closest of friends. Yet because 
 I'm an American you'd make Elsa miserable; 
 you 'd " 
 
 " You made love to her by stealth," flung 
 back the offended frau. 
 
 " No, only in the usual and honorable manner 
 of my own country," Thorpe defended himself. 
 
 " Ja, ja, you would prove it, nichtf The 
 honorable manner of your land is not honorable 
 in the Fatherland. No people are so high as 
 Germans. No daughter of the Von Kissels shall 
 wed a man of a lower race." 
 
 " Mother! " gasped Elsa. 
 
 Thorpe smiled reassuringly into her grief- 
 stricken face. 
 
 " Americans are made up of the pick of all 
 races, the German included," he asserted. " For 
 another thing, we judge a man by what he is 
 himself. Kurt considers me worthy to be his 
 heart's friend. What more need you ask, dear- 
 est? You love me. Let your mother keep your 
 dot, if she wishes to be unjust. Only marry 
 me. We shall go to live in America and be 
 happy." 
 
 But Elsa's golden head drooped in despairing 
 resignation. 
 
 " The mother has not consented," she sighed. 
 " It may not be." 
 
 " Then you do not really love me," replied 
 Thorpe. 
 
 Elsa quivered but only clung the closer to her 
 mother. Thorpe turned away and walked out of 
 the boudoir in a white heat.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 A BEE IN THE HONEY 
 
 By the time Kurt and Lucy returned from 
 their motoring, Thorpe's anger had cooled. He 
 had taken thought of the strict training in obedi- 
 ence to parental dictation under which Elsa had 
 been reared from infancy. Unquestioning com- 
 pliance with Authority had been made her second 
 nature by those who had moulded her young 
 life. Like the privates of the German army, all 
 her will and initiative had been drilled and sub- 
 dued, until she lacked even the inclination to 
 disobey. She was not to blame. 
 
 The passing of his hot indignation left Thorpe 
 only the more resolute. He had won the daugh- 
 ter's love. Now he would force the consent of 
 the mother... He was waiting on the steps of 
 the porte-cochere when Kurt handed the beam- 
 ing Lucy from her car as if she were a piece 
 of priceless porcelain. 
 
 " 'Lo, Loo. What's this? ' he greeted. 
 " Looks as if you've cured Kurt of his grouch." 
 
 A fist blow could not have more completely 
 dashed the young officer's blissfulness than the 
 well-meant banter. Kurt stared at his friend a 
 moment; then abruptly hung his head as if 
 stricken with grief or shame, and hurried into 
 the castle. 
 
 88
 
 A Bee in the Honey 89 
 
 " Why, what is it? What have you done to 
 him, Lan? " accused Lucy. 
 
 " Nothing. ..If I only knew! He's heen that 
 way ever since we were in Switzerland. I 
 thought it was worry about his chances with 
 you." 
 
 " But Pve tried to he good friends. He really 
 is a nice boy.*' 
 
 ' * Only that, Loo ? . . . No wonder he looks glum 
 if you've kept reminding him he is just a nice 
 boy friend." 
 
 Lucy's green eyes glanced up in a questioning 
 look that cooled and hardened under Thorpe's 
 reproachful gaze. 
 
 " How I feel towards Lieutenant von Kissel is 
 a matter that concerns only him and myself," 
 she replied. 
 
 " Forgive me, Loo," Thorpe hastened to apol- 
 ogize. " It was only that I couldn't help sym- 
 pathizing with him. I'm in a hole as bad or 
 worse. ' ' 
 
 " Really? I would have said her heart has 
 been on her sleeve for you ever since we left 
 Berlin." 
 
 Thorpe flushed with mingled anger and 
 pleasure. 
 
 11 You're too generous to mean a thing like 
 that, Loo. You know she's absolutely artless 
 unsophisticated. That's the trouble. She's a 
 child, and her mother will not. . .Loo, you agreed 
 to be chums again. I want your help." 
 
 "Oh, yes chums," murmured Lucy. "So 
 you want me to pop the question to the child 
 for you? "
 
 90 The Blond Beast 
 
 NO, I we Don't joke about it, Loo! I'd 
 
 be the happiest of men She loves me ! She told 
 me so. ..Only, you see, her mother forbids." 
 
 " Another verboten. \The angel could not 
 dream of anything else than minding mother. 
 What a dutiful, docile wife she would be the 
 made in Germany brand! ' 
 
 " Shall be," corrected /Thorpe. ' I'm going 
 to have her, and you are going to help." 
 
 " Oh, am I? " 
 
 " All we need is to crack the shell of Tante's 
 confounded race prejudice. She is willing to 
 accept you because a wife merges into her hus- 
 band's family. That's the whole trouble. She 
 likes me, but she believes Elsa will be lowered 
 by becoming an American." 
 
 " Well, if you're not enough of a Lochin- 
 
 var " 
 
 . _ 
 
 " You know that's out of the question, Loo. 
 I might persuade the child, but she would suffer. 
 Unless her mothers consents, it will break her 
 
 heart. * ' 
 
 Lucy's level gaze wavered and sank. After a 
 perceptible pause, she asked in a listless tone: 
 " What is it you wish me to do! ' 
 
 " Put in a good word for me with Tante," 
 answered Thorpe, his eyes aglow with eagerness. 
 " I know you can persuade her. She'd do any- 
 thing for Kurt." 
 
 " And you think I'd do anything for you? 
 
 " I love her, Loo. I've no chance to get her 
 if you don't help me." 
 
 The appeal seemed to fall on deaf ears. Lucy 
 did not look up. When she replied, her tone
 
 A Bee in the Honey 91 
 
 was more listless than before: " Oh, I can't 
 say. I'll think about it." 
 
 She left Thorpe standing in a daze of dis- 
 concertion. Her indifferent bearing remained 
 unchanged until she was alone in her magnificent 
 Louis XV bedchamber, with all the doors bolted. 
 Then, safe even from the sympathetic gaze of 
 her elderly maid, she began in outward stillness 
 to fight the hardest of all battles that can come 
 to one who loves. 
 
 Solitude is the refuge and defense of those 
 who suffer most deeply. 
 
 Lucy remained secluded in her chamber. She 
 refused to see anyone except her maid until 
 mid-morning of the next day. Then, at last, she 
 gave permission to admit the anxiously waiting 
 Frau von Kissel. The good lady found her in bed, 
 a trifle pale and languid but otherwise unchanged. 
 
 " Ach, Hebe fraulein! " she sighed her relief. 
 " I feared you had a bad sickness incurred. I 
 must hasten to tell my Kurtzie. The poor boy 
 is most sad. Do not tell me, liebe fraulein, you 
 have refused him! " 
 
 The tone of the fond mother was tragic. Lucy 
 did not smile. She herself was still suffering 
 far too acutely. 
 
 " I have yet to refuse him," she replied. 
 
 "Yet! " 
 
 " He has not asked. When he does it will be 
 time for me to consider the advisability of marry- 
 ing into a family that despises me." 
 
 " Nein,nein! " remonstrated the frau. " With 
 the highest regard we regard you, Hebe fraulein 
 the most highest! "
 
 92 The Bloud Beast 
 
 Lucy lifted her dark eyebrows in an expression 
 that was both incredulous and mildly ironical. 
 
 " You say that, yet believe Americans to be 
 an inferior race. Is it my fortune that makes 
 the difference between your feelings for me and 
 those you hold towards Allan Thorpe? ' 
 
 Frau von Kissel blinked. Her plump jowl 
 drooped. Not so would any German fraulein 
 speak to a frau of noble family. But a mother 
 must think first of her son. 
 
 " My duty is to my children/' she replied with 
 a dignity that was not altogether lacking in 
 appeal. " Above all I must be sure they make 
 good marriages. - My Kurt is high-born and high- 
 minded. You shall be sure he wants not your 
 fortune. He is most unhappy with love for 
 yourself only." 
 
 11 Is it any worse for him to be unhappy than 
 for others? " murmured Lucy, her darkening 
 eyes fixed in a gaze that looked through and 
 beyond all earthly objects. " Lan Thorpe is as 
 much of a man as Kurt is. I am no less an 
 American than he. In scorning him you scorn 
 me." 
 
 The rounded mouth of the frau fell frankly 
 agape. She stared at the unseeing girl beside 
 her in wide-eyed perplexity. 
 
 " But why would you do it?" she ^ queried. 
 " Why would you give him up to Elsa if you so 
 love him? " 
 
 This wonder of intuitive perception from the 
 phlegmatic Teutonic matron seemed neither to 
 surprise nor to stir Lucy. 
 " I do not admit I have not admitted that I
 
 A Bee in the Honey 93 
 
 love any man," she replied with cool composure. 
 
 Again Fran von Kissel ruminated 
 
 1 ' So ... good, good . . . Love that somes after 
 the wedding is better ... I will forgive those 
 naughty children. The foolish Elsa weeps her 
 eyes out. . .Then you will accept my lieber Kurt, 
 nichtf " 
 
 " I shall make no promises," said Lucy. 
 
 11 Ach but that is wise and maidenlike. 
 We will send for those undutiful children, and 
 after they are made joyful " 
 
 " Not here! " whispered Lucy, the hidden 
 nails of her clasped fingers cutting into the white 
 skin. 
 
 Frau von Kissel gave the girl a motherly kiss 
 on the temple and wisely withdrew without speak- 
 ing. She sent a footman for Thorpe. The serv- 
 ant found him vainly attempting to play a more 
 dispirited game of billiards than Kurt. The 
 message roused the young officer to a glow of 
 generous gratulation. 
 
 " Hang the score, Lan. Hit out," he said. 
 " If the mother has sent for you, it must mean 
 a fair-weather change." 
 
 Thorpe was far less sanguine. His doubts 
 were not lessened when he saw Elsa drooping 
 with shame before her sternly indignant mother. 
 
 " Good morning, Tante," he said. " I under- 
 stand you wish to see me." 
 
 " I could wish I might never see you again, 
 Allant," chided the frau. " You have been most 
 so undutiful as this bad daughter. I have sent 
 for you to make me apologies for your so-wrong 
 doings. ' '
 
 94 The Blond Beast 
 
 " That is more than I can agree to," replied 
 Thorpe. " I am very sorry that you are dis- 
 pleased, but I see no reason to apologize for 
 loving Elsa and winning her love in the manner 
 that is considered right and honorable by my 
 own people." 
 
 "Your people ach, that is the hardness! 
 But Fraulein Carew she has said weighty 
 words. Ja, und some better Americans may be 
 better as some worse Deutsch, nicht? " 
 
 " Yes, that is possible, Tante," assented 
 Thorpe, his eyes brightening as he sensed the 
 purport of this reluctant admission. 
 
 Frau von Kissel sighed and went on heavily: 
 
 " You should know, Allant, I have otherwise 
 loved you as a son. You have done wrong, but 
 it was after the manner of your outlandish, 
 undutiful custom. Besides, you have said Elsa 
 believed you had asked my permission. Now 
 you shall both behave as lovers not yet 
 betrothed." 
 
 The reversal was too sudden for Elsa to more 
 than half grasp. She stood motionless, gazing 
 at her mother in wide-eyed bewilderment. But 
 Thorpe was prepared. The first hint of yielding 
 on the part of the prejudiced mother gave proof 
 that Lucy had interposed. He sprang to clasp 
 his arm about Elsa's bowed shoulders. 
 
 The girl's startled glance darted around to 
 his ardent face and back to her mother in timid 
 appeal. Though still reluctant to yield, Frau 
 von Kissel smoothed out her frown and even 
 melted to a half smile. 
 
 " To love is not forbidden, child," she said.
 
 A Bee in the Honey 95 
 
 " Only there is no binding. The betrothal can- 
 not be until we go home to Berlin." 
 
 " But I shall consider myself bound," pledged 
 Thorpe, and he kissed his trembling captive with- 
 out waiting for the parental permission. 
 
 The faded eyes of the frau suddenly brimmed 
 with tears. 
 
 " Achl ach! " she sighed. " To be young 
 to love how joyous, how good! " 
 
 Elsa uttered a cooing little cry of gladness 
 and pressed her blushing cheek against Thorpe's 
 shoulder. He led her out through the open 
 casement window and down the terrace steps into 
 the rose garden where he had won the confession- 
 of her love. 
 
 The sanction of her mother had cleared the 
 girl's conscience from the guilt of disobedience. 
 Love now melted the last barrier of her maidenly 
 shyness a love so innocent that it felt no 
 restraint of false modesty. 
 
 "What happiness we now have!" blissfully 
 whispered Elsa. " Would that everybody were 
 this happy ! . . . Poor Kurt ! ' ' 
 
 " Ungrateful Kurt," rallied Thorpe. " Think 
 how kind Loo has been to him. Yet he goes 
 around glum as a loser." 
 
 " If you could but cheer him! " sighed Elsa. 
 " I cannot understand him. First I thought it 
 was because he had not the pictures. Yet now 
 that I have given them to him, he is vexed 
 with me." 
 
 " Pictures? " idly inquired Thorpe, his 
 thoughts centered on the exquisite tint and 
 texture of the girl's cheek.
 
 96 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Not even are they that yet," she replied, 
 hardly less casually. "It is the kodak film for 
 which we went to the embassy in Paris. Kurt 
 was so fearful it might make trouble for Lucy. 
 He said if I brought it to him, he could tell if 
 the views really were verboten." 
 
 Thorpe roused to sudden interest. * ' You asked 
 Loo for the film, and she let you have it? " 
 
 The girl looked up at him with a trustful, 
 unwavering gaze of perfect innocence. 
 
 " Nein. I took it without her knowledge. Kurt 
 feared that she might say no. I did not like 
 to take it without asking. But Kurt said the 
 service was for the Fatherland. Whatever is 
 done to serve the Fatherland cannot be wrong. 
 That is known to all. Why do you look at 
 me so strangely, Allan? " 
 
 With a mental wrench, Thorpe brought him- 
 self up sharp and forced a reassuring smile. A 
 kiss completely calmed and satisfied the girl. 
 
 " Come," he said. " The minutes have darted 
 past like bees honey-gathering. We must not 
 stay longer, else the mother may be cross."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 A THEFT OF HONOB 
 
 After wandering about through many suites 
 of the great chateau, the lovers at last located 
 Frau von Kissel. She had gone with Lucy to 
 look at the duke's famous collection of laces and 
 art glass. 
 
 " Liebe fraulein, see," she said.- " The happy 
 ones come. They shall give you thanks. I will 
 tell that you persuaded me to forgive their 
 undutifulness. " 
 
 There was a suggestion of shadow under 
 Lucy's eyes, and her cheeks lacked their usual 
 rich rose. Yet she smiled as she held out her 
 hand to Thorpe. 
 
 " Congratulations, Lan! May you always be 
 as happy as now! " 
 
 " That's like you, old chum," he replied some- 
 what absently. " Must look up Kurt tell him 
 the news." 
 
 He dropped Lucy's hand and hurried off. The 
 girl's face became still more pallid. Her eyes 
 hardened to the cold brightness of polished jade. 
 
 " Fraulein! " complained Elsa, surprised and 
 hurt. " How you look! Can it be you do not 
 wish happiness to me also? " 
 
 With an impulsiveness utterly unlike her usual 
 
 97
 
 98 The Blond Beast 
 
 cool composure, Lucy flung her arms about the 
 grieved child-woman. 
 
 Thorpe found Kurt still trying to kill thought 
 in half-hearted billiard play. He sought to 
 lighten the blow that he must strike. 
 
 " Chop off, brother-to-be," he ordered. 
 " There's something. . .But first, I want to tell 
 you that Barkis is willing, and the mother does 
 not object, though the betrothal must wait until 
 our return to Berlin." 
 
 Kurt dropped his cue and grasped Thorpe's 
 hand, all his moody dejection overflooded by the 
 wave of sympathetic delight that welled up at 
 the first intimation of the good news. 
 
 " I knew you'd feel that way," Thorpe broke 
 in on the fervid congratulations. " You're as 
 square a pal as Loo. . .Which reminds me. I'm 
 going to speak now not only as a friend but as 
 your brother as a coming member of the fam- 
 ily. Elsa opened her heart to me. You under- 
 stand how that was, and so will not blame her. 
 Among other things, she told me about the film." 
 
 Automatically as a boxer's reflex to a blow, 
 Kurt drew himself up to military rigidity, heels 
 clicking, chin out-thrust 
 
 " What I have done was done in the service of 
 the Fatherland," he declared. " That is enough 
 for me, whatever the consequences." 
 
 Thorpe stared. This was an entirely new Kurt 
 to him. 
 
 11 That's rather beyond me, old man," he said. 
 " Well, what's done is done. Next thing is to 
 make the best of the mess. You've had your 
 look at the views. Better slip the film back
 
 A Theft of Honor 99 
 
 again before Loo takes a notion to look for it." 
 
 " I have my orders. The views are verboten. 
 They must be delivered to the Greater Head- 
 quarters." 
 
 " Must be? r ' Thorpe caught at the point. 
 " Then you've not yet sent them? " 
 
 " No," admitted Kurt, after a moment of 
 hesitancy. 
 
 " Thank God! " ejaculated Thorpe. He caught 
 his friend's shoulder in a hard grip and looked 
 straight into the clear blue eyes that were so 
 like Elsa's. 
 
 " Listen, old man. You know the saying that 
 a blunder is worse than a crime. Your Prussian 
 secret service have foozled this deal from the 
 first. They may know German psychology, but 
 what they do not know about the people of other 
 nations would fill a library. You remember how 
 Loo felt over the way they tried to bully her. 
 What will she think of the officer and gentleman 
 who, under the pretense of courtship, took advan- 
 tage of her kindly intimacy of her friendly 
 hospitality to steal her property? " 
 
 The blow struck with merciless force, but it 
 was delivered straight from the shoulder, and 
 the look in the striker's steady eyes told of the 
 spirit behind it. No flame of anger or resent- 
 ment flared in the young Prussian's white cheeks. 
 He flinched before the sudden dismaying revela- 
 tion of how persons other than of German rear- 
 ing must regard what he had done. 
 
 " God knows God knows it was not easy! " 
 he groaned. "Yet my orders... The service 
 of the Fatherland! "
 
 100 The Blond Beast 
 
 "You believed that your duty required you to 
 betray a friend to steal from the woman you 
 love from a friend who trusts you? No won- 
 der you have suffered! I see it all now. Poor 
 old Kurt ! . . . Orders this crazy idea of loyalty 
 
 what a hell for you. . .That is, if you haven't 
 been shamming love." 
 
 "Shamming! You can think that?" The 
 tortured man stared at his friend in an agony 
 of reproach and appeal. " But you must believe 
 me! Not alone loyal service the fear for her 
 
 Von Pappheim threatened... " 
 
 Thorpe's convulsive grip relaxed. His eyes 
 cleared. 
 
 *> Then it was for her sake to save her 1 
 Now I can understand. Yet for you, of all men, 
 to do such a thing, Kurt! Had you only asked 
 her for the film, on the plea that to turn it in 
 would help your career! Ten to one, there's 
 nothing really harmful in the views. Now is 
 there? Own up." 
 
 " I do not know, Allan. My orders were to 
 secure the film from from the accused without 
 her knowledge, and to bring it myself to Greater 
 Headquarters, undeveloped." 
 
 This time Thorpe put a hand on each shoulder 
 of his friend with a clasp as sympathetic as it 
 was firm. 
 
 '* You're in a tight box, old man. I can see 
 that. But I know what you will do, now that 
 you see what I think of it and what Lucy would 
 have thought if you had gone ahead as planned." 
 
 ' ' You mean that I " 
 
 " Who wished the damnable spy work on
 
 A Theft of Honor 101 
 
 you? " thrust Thorpe. " Can't you see the 
 scheme! She had refused Von Pappheim. He 
 knew you were his rival. What neater revenge 
 than to force you to a piece of treachery that 
 would make her despise you? Will you permit 
 him to use you as a cat's-paw? Don't tell me 
 they haven't enough trained spies to do their 
 dirty work." 
 
 " No service for the Fatherland can be dirty 
 or dishonorable," murmured Kurt as if reciting 
 a lesson learned by rote. 
 
 Thorpe shot his last bolt 
 
 " Is this a real service? You know that Loo 
 is not a spy. Very well. As long as she keeps 
 the film, Von Pappheim can do her no harm. But 
 what if you send it to him? Will he not cook 
 up a case from the views, no matter how inno- 
 cent of wrong intention she was in taking them? 
 If she is not a spy, her possession of the film 
 cannot injure Germany. But what if you send 
 it to Von Pappheim if you give him what he 
 may be able to misuse as proofs? Are alleged 
 spies never railroaded? " 
 
 Kurt's face was now gray-white. He shud- 
 dered. 
 
 " I have heard rumors," he muttered. " If 
 the High Command so orders a secret military 
 trial the ax. . . " 
 
 " My God! " cried Thorpe and, in an upflare 
 of fear-goaded wrath, he gripped the arms of 
 his friend. " You think that, yet would hesitate 
 for an instant? Give me that film, or I'll take 
 it from you! " 
 
 His prisoner clutched at an inner pocket.
 
 102 The Blond Beast 
 
 "No wait, Allan. ..My word of honor I 
 shall go to her. After she has developed the 
 views she may permit. . .But no, I can no longer 
 hope. You know what I shall be required to do 
 when I have made report of my failure. My 
 one wish is that you will stay in the Fatherland 
 and take my place as son and head of the 
 family. ' ' 
 
 " But, Kurt, I can't believe it! "...Thorpe's 
 unnerved arms fell flaccidly to his sides " The 
 ax, too! You're joking you must be joking! 
 Germany, of all countries enlightened Ger- 
 many! " 
 
 The young officer left him groping in a daze 
 of perplexity over this paradox. He found Lucy 
 still with his mother and sister. 
 
 " I wish to see Miss Carew alone." 
 
 Quietly as he spoke, his look sent Frau von 
 Kissel hurrying out as wonderstruck and fright- 
 ened as Elsa. But Lucy gave no sign that she 
 noticed his haggard face and burning eyes. 
 There was no change in her tone and manner 
 
 " What is it, Kurt? Don't tell me your leave 
 has been recalled." 
 
 11 A longer leave is before me," he replied 
 * ' a leave from which there is no returning. 
 That is nothing of itself. The bitterness is that 
 I shall no more see you." 
 
 Lucy's brows lifted inquiringly. 
 
 11 A poor riddle, is it not? " he flecked at 
 himself. " Enough of it. Now for the plain 
 truth. Here are your verboten snapshots, Miss 
 Carew. ' * 
 
 He handed over the little box that had held
 
 A Theft of Honor 103 
 
 the film during its journey from Berlin to Paris 
 in the American legation dispatch-pouch. Lucy's 
 eyes widened ever so slightly as she took it and 
 turned it over in her hand. The seal was still 
 unbroken. 
 
 11 Why, of all things," she murmured. " My 
 absurd little white elephant. Where could I have 
 dropped it! " 
 
 " You did not," replied Kurt, stiffening to 
 tense erectness. " I spied upon you I stole 
 the film. It is true I see no dishonor in that. 
 High above all else is loyalty and service to the 
 Fatherland. Yet Allan has opened my eyes to 
 how base, how treacherous you will regard my. 
 act. From that there is no escape and I shall 
 be the one to pay, ..No more about me... You 
 and the Fatherland ' * 
 
 " Stop! " broke in Lucy. " I can't even guess 
 You're talking like a crazy man. I can't 
 believe you've been drinking." 
 
 " They jeered at me in the Student Corps 
 because I would never drink to intoxication. No, 
 I am sober, and I am not crazed. A soldier must 
 obey, whatever the consequences. My orders 
 were to bring that film, undeveloped, to Berlin. 
 Allan has shown me that I must ask your per- 
 mission and that the views must first be devel- 
 oped to make certain they are harmless." 
 
 "How can they be otherwise such tiny 
 snapshots'? " 
 
 * ' Unfortunately, the lens of your little camera 
 is of the most perfect German make. Most of 
 your snapshots can be magnified to a very large 
 size. If these disclose the details of the howitzer
 
 104 The Blond Beast 
 
 you photographed, the secret might fall into the 
 hands of the Fatherland's enemies." 
 
 " Oh, I see. . . and all the time I thought it only 
 the fussiness of your verboten cranks. But it 
 was their own fault. Why didn't they tell me? 
 ...And you!" The girl's half amused smile 
 vanished in the sudden straightening of her 
 lovely lips. " Why did you not ask permission 
 before you took? " 
 
 Miserable as were the young officer's eyes, 
 their straightforward gaze did not flinch or 
 waver. 
 
 " My orders were to secure the film without 
 your knowledge." 
 
 " Your orders? Would any gentleman give 
 such orders, or any gentleman carry them out? " 
 
 Kurt quivered as if lashed in the face. " You 
 have power to make me suffer. . .You are not of 
 the Fatherland; you do not understand that I 
 had no choice but to obey." 
 
 " Then why have you returned the film after 
 doing what you have done? " 
 
 The shrewd query pierced the barrier of pride 
 and shame that had constrained him. Out burst 
 his pent-up emotion in a flood of passionate 
 entreaty : 
 
 " Lucy, you will, you must believe me! Von 
 Pappheim said that vengeance would be exacted 
 against you if the film were not secured. My 
 thought was not alone to serve the Fatherland. 
 No less was it to save you. Can you doubt my 
 love, when for you I have failed the Fatherland 
 have disobeyed the orders of the High Com- 
 mand, and shall pay with my life? "
 
 A Theft of Honor 105 
 
 Lucy gazed up into the flaming face of the 
 young officer, shocked, yet as incredulous as had 
 been Thorpe. 
 
 " Impossible! " she exclaimed. " Why, even 
 in time of war, soldiers are shot only for deser- 
 tion or treason." 
 
 " You are American. You know nothing of 
 military laws and customs. Among our officers 
 death is considered far preferable to disgrace." 
 
 " Yet you say you spied on me. You took my 
 property without leave." 
 
 " For the Fatherland and for you, Lucy! 
 Have I not made all clear? Only now Allan 
 has shown me my fearful mistake. If the views 
 had come into Von Pappheim's hands and he 
 had found in them proofs on which to base an 
 accusation against you ! . . . " 
 
 Lucy casually twisted a bit of old lace around 
 the film package and scrutinized the creamy mesh 
 as if absorbed in puzzling out its intricate maze. 
 Kurt stood at rigid attention, his suspense more 
 cruel than that of a culprit in dock awaiting the 
 judge's sentence. When at last the girl looked 
 up, her lips were half curved in a smile of com- 
 passion and sympathy. 
 
 * * I do not yet understand how you could bring 
 yourself to do it, Kurt. I am certain, though, 
 that you would not intentionally do anything 
 that you thought in the least dishonorable. Per- 
 haps it's as much my fault." 
 
 " Yours? " 
 
 " My willfulness. . .It's hard to believe they 
 would force you to do what you say you'd have 
 to do. Still, if there's even a chance. . .Here's
 
 106 The Blond Beast 
 
 the film. Take it to Herr Count von Pappheim, 
 with my compliments on his silliness." 
 
 Kurt drew back from the proffered prize as if 
 it had been an adder. 
 
 11 But you do not understand," he remon< 
 strated. " Allan pointed out to me the trap." 
 
 " Lanf " 
 
 " Yes. If the views are harmful, Von Papp- 
 heim will use them as proof that you are a 
 dangerous spy." 
 
 Lucy smiled ironically. " What of it? They 
 can't touch me outside Germany, and I don't 
 have to go back." 
 
 " Yet if you do not! " exclaimed Kurt, his 
 voice a-quiver with dread and longing. " Never 
 then will I have any chance to win you! And 
 it is not true that you would be safe in other 
 lands no, not even in your own. . .Listen, dear- 
 est fraulein! There is one way one only. 
 Destroy this fatal film before witnesses before 
 the mother and Elsa, Allan and myself. Then 
 become my betrothed. They will make my pun- 
 ishment for disobedience light, for I shall have 
 saved the verboten views from our enemies and 
 won you over to loyalty to the Fatherland and 
 we shall be happy! " 
 
 Had he asked only for the destruction of the 
 film Lucy would have complied. She might even 
 have gone further and yielded to the ardent 
 entreaty of his proposal. Her own suffering 
 made her all the more sympathetic with his 
 evident yearning for her. She had already given 
 him her affection and now the realization that 
 he was in danger of death or disgrace because
 
 A Theft of Honor 107 
 
 of what she had done filled her generous heart 
 with pity and salami. 
 
 For a moment she stood hesitant, her decision 
 trembling in a balance. Suddenly, in a flash, 
 the full import of Kurt's remarks came home to 
 her. He had said she would not be safe even in 
 her own country! How dare any government 
 make such a threat! All of Lucy's independ- 
 ence and high spirit welled up within her. 
 
 Her kind, almost tender look of commiseration 
 hardened. 
 
 " I'll not be scared into an engagement nor 
 into destroying my snapshots," she gave him her 
 answer. 
 
 * * But but to save yourself, dearest Lucy ! ' ' 
 
 " Oh, I know your own safety is a secondary 
 matter with you, Kurt, and I shall bear that in 
 mind. I'll not give up my film before I know 
 whether the views really are harmful. Of course 
 I've waited. It wouldn't have been fair to let 
 a French photographer do the developing.'* 
 
 " That was most kind of you, and I can tell 
 the High Command of it in proof of your inno- 
 cence of all wrong intent." 
 
 Lucy shrugged. 
 
 " It's all their fault, making a serious matter 
 out of a trifle. I will develop the film myself. 
 If the views are so harmless that you believe 
 the herr count cannot use them against me, you 
 may take the negatives to him. But if they are 
 dangerous, I'll neither give them up nor 
 destroy them. I will put them in a safe 
 place, with directions that they are to be 
 turned over to the French military authorities
 
 108 The Blond Beast 
 
 if the least injury is done to you or to myself." 
 " Lucy! " cried the young officer, between con- 
 sternation over the danger to his beloved Father- 
 land and admiration for the girl's clever scheme 
 to baffle Von Pappheim. 
 
 " That's my answer," she said. " The sooner 
 we find out, the better. You might ask Lan to 
 take a spin to-morrow morning and see if he can 
 get me a kodak developer. I tried in Sezanne, 
 when you were at the garage. But they did not 
 seem to have the kodak tanks."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 SHADOWS 
 
 Dismissed by Lucy, Kurt returned in haste to 
 his friend. As he poured out without' reserve all 
 that had passed between him and the girl he 
 loved, his blue eyes shifted their glances about 
 as if fearful of eavesdroppers. 
 
 At the close of the hurried recital Thorpe 
 smiled his appreciation of Lucy's shrewd solving 
 of the dilemma. 
 
 " Always suspected that Loo was pretty well 
 all there. Strikes me this move means stale- 
 mate, if not checkmate, for friend Papp." 
 
 11 May mean," qualified Kurt, more nervous 
 than before. " The thought has come to me that 
 I myself may be shadowed. I know little about 
 secret service work, but IVe heard the saying, 
 ' Set a spy to watch a spy.' Von Pappheim 
 intimated that if I were too slow, assistance 
 might be sent to help secure the film." 
 
 Thorpe glanced at his watch. 
 
 " You say she couldn't get a development tank 
 in Sezanne ... Suppose we hit out at once? We 
 can make Vitry or Chalons by dark. Your 
 shadow if there's one hanging 'round here 
 will think you have lifted the loot and are flitting. 
 While I order out the car, you can tell Loo to 
 
 109
 
 110 The Blond Beast 
 
 lock up the film. Pass the word around that 
 you're suddenly called away on official business." 
 
 A few minutes later the friends came out to 
 the car, followed by a servant with Kurt's suit- 
 case and bag. They found Henri chatting volubly 
 with one of the castle chauffeurs who had pre- 
 viously called himself to the attention of the 
 visitors as a Swiss from one of the German- 
 speaking cantons. He stepped back and stood 
 at attention, as blank-faced and deferential as a 
 waiter. 
 
 Thorpe directed Henri to drive to Chalons with 
 all haste, as Lieutenant von Kissel wished to 
 reach that city as soon as possible. He looked 
 significantly at the bag and suitcase, and jumped 
 into the tonneau after Kurt. 
 
 As Henri whirled the car off around the drive, 
 Thorpe's backward look glimpsed the other 
 chauffeur running towards the garage. 
 
 " Thought so, old man. That wooden-faced 
 Swiss watch has been keeping tick on you he 's 
 your shadow. Must be scooting to phone. Can't 
 expect to overhaul us himself, after what I said 
 to Henri. But a phone message Suppose we 
 switch to Vitry? Might be awkward results if 
 one of your secret service men saw us go into a 
 photographer's. ' ' 
 
 " No. We might have to pass through the 
 Camp de Mailly, the great French maneuver 
 grounds. My orders do not require me to obtain 
 information in that line," replied the young 
 Prussian, with the first trace of bitterness that 
 Thorpe had ever known him to display. 
 
 Nothing could have proved more positively
 
 Shadows 111 
 
 that spy-work was repugnant to his fine high- 
 strung spirit. Thorpe glanced back, but did not 
 change the directions he had given to Henri. 
 
 The car was already out through the main 
 gates and sweeping around the sharp curves of 
 the road that wound down the hillside. From 
 the last turn that gave Thorpe a view of the 
 gates he saw a motorcyclist whiz out of the 
 chateau grounds. 
 
 " Look! " he called Kurt's attention. " Your 
 Swiss watch has a fast movement. Touch her 
 up a notch, Henri. You don't fancy you're haw- 
 geeing an ox-cart, do .you? " 
 
 " What's the use? " said Kurt. " No touring 
 car can out-race a good motorcycle." 
 
 " We'll at least give him a run for his money," 
 replied Thorpe as he jammed his hat on tighter. 
 
 The car had whirled out of the trees, around 
 the last return curve that brought it to the foot 
 of the castle hill. A mile or two west was the 
 main road that ran north from Sezanne, down 
 across the Marshes of St. Gond and on through 
 a forest, to Epernay on the Marne. Henri turned 
 east, towards Fere Champenoise and Vitry. The 
 last down-swoop gave the car full headway. At 
 a mile a minute clip it took the long, easy, wind- 
 ing upgrade. It was still on high, booming along 
 nearly forty miles an hour, when it came up 
 among the rolling pine-clad hills of the plateau. 
 
 But the expectancy in Kurt's backward glance 
 was justified. The pursuing motorcycle whizzed 
 up the last rise at a speed that fast overhauled 
 the car. Thorpe instinctively doubled his fist. 
 Kurt half drew his service automatic pistol.
 
 112 The Blond Beast 
 
 Though the motorcycle rider wore big green 
 goggles, his identity was unmistakable as his 
 machine came roaring up behind the car. Yet 
 Thorpe and Kurt could not see that he so much 
 as glanced at them. He whirled alongside and 
 rocketed ahead along the level road at fully 
 sixty-five miles an hour. Thorpe shouted for 
 Henri to keep the motorcyclist in sight. With 
 a roar from the opened cut-out, the powerful car 
 leaped forward like a dynosaur in chase of its 
 prey. 
 
 Yet still the motorcycle gained. It, too, had 
 put on speed. After a few whirlwind miles, it 
 was almost out of sight when it came to a fork 
 in the road. The pursuers saw it swerve south- 
 eastwards towards the village of Fere Champe- 
 noise and shoot on with no lessening of its terrific 
 speed. 
 
 A few moments later Henri approached the 
 fork at rapidly slackening speed. He turned to 
 the northeast. Kurt jerked out his French road 
 map. 
 
 " Donnerwetter! " he ejaculated. " That fire- 
 devil is heading straight for Camp de Mailly. 
 Can it be he is a French spy not German! " 
 
 " All the more reason, if that's true, for you 
 to loop the loop while I warn Loo. They can't 
 jail you for making the little trip. You took 
 out your passports as a Prussian officer, and 
 they'll find on you nothing out of the way." 
 
 " Yes, there is that to be thankful for. I have 
 been spared what is usually required of our 
 officers in foreign lands. In his eagerness to 
 trap Lucy, Von Pappheim omitted the general
 
 Shadows 113 
 
 order for me to bring back all obtainable mili- 
 tary information. What now? " 
 
 After passing the fork in the road, the car, 
 instead of jumping back to racing speed, had 
 slowed. Henri stopped and sprang out to look 
 at the engine. Thorpe hastened to offer assist- 
 ance, but many minutes were lost before the 
 trouble was located in an oil-fouled magneto 
 connection. As a result, dusk was deepening 
 into nightfall when the car rolled across the 
 Marne bridge into the narrow streets of Chalons. 
 
 A threat of rain suggested to Thorpe that he 
 borrow Henri's chauffeur raincoat and cap. In 
 this simple yet effective disguise he followed 
 Kurt into the railway station, to make certain 
 of his friend's safe departure. Hardly had they 
 taken their places in the crowded ticket line 
 when a man dressed as a motorcyclist shouldered 
 brusquely between them. 
 
 With half averted eyes, Thorpe cast a sidelong 
 glance, expecting to see the wooden face of the 
 castle chauffeur. What he perceived wrung 
 from him a startled exclamation. He covered 
 with a murmured protest in French that caused 
 the intruder's spectacled glance to turn away 
 with contemptuous indifference. Though the 
 man's cheeks had been stained olive, his mus- 
 tache waxed down in Spanish points, and his 
 eyes hidden behind the dust goggles, there was 
 no mistaking that hatchet face and tall, arro- 
 gantly erect figure. 
 
 Close listening about the racket and clamor 
 of the station brought to Thorpe's ears 
 snatches of the remarks that Von Papp-
 
 114 The Blond Beast 
 
 helm hurriedly muttered to Kurt in English: 
 "You bring the film. . .good. . .about to... 
 after you. . .complete Mailly plans, but could 
 not. . .Verdun. . .less than a week now until... 
 secret mobilization. . .the seventeenth... " 
 
 The line had moved along. Kurt bought his 
 ticket, not to the German frontier, as planned, 
 but to Charleroi, in Belgium. While Von Papp- 
 heim, affecting a Spanish accent, booked passage 
 to Liege, the younger officer stepped back of him 
 and scribbled a few words on a visiting card. 
 He slipped the message into Thorpe 's hand and 
 gave him a nudge to hurry off. He then riveted 
 Von Pappheim's attention upon himself by dash- 
 ing for a train. Thorpe slipped away in the 
 opposite direction and hastened to read the mes- 
 sage in the nearest secluded corner. 
 
 At first glance the writing seemed to be an 
 unmeaning jumble 
 
 " Sienkiewicz Noah Swiss Ararat wings." 
 But he puzzled only a few moments over the 
 imprumptu code before he caught the clue. 
 " Noah " and " Ararat " suggested the Flood, 
 otherwise "The Deluge" that terrible war 
 novel of the Polish writer Sienkiewicz. Instantly 
 the interpretation of the entire message flashed 
 out with startling clearness : 
 " War deluge. Flee to Switzerland." 
 There had been no need to mention Frau von 
 Kissel and the girls. The purpose of the flight 
 would of course be to save the ladies the Ger- 
 man ones in particular from the annoyance 
 or danger of detention in the midst of a hostile 
 nation. What Thorpe had overheard of Von
 
 Shadows 115 
 
 Pappheim's talk served to piece out the picture. 
 One of the big Powers was already secretly 
 mobilizing. A declaration of war might be 
 expected within a week. Von Pappheim had 
 been spying at Camp de Mailly, but had failed 
 to get plans of the mighty fortress of Verdun. 
 
 Thorpe's first impulse was to order Henri 
 about for the return trip at breakneck speed. 
 But he knew Lucy. She had sent for a develop- 
 ing ' tank. With the help of Henri, he hunted 
 Chalons until he found an open photo-supply 
 shop that had in stock the desired tank and 
 chemicals. 
 
 The return trip required nearly three hours. 
 On arriving at the castle, Thorpe learned that 
 madame and the mademoiselles had retired, and 
 he decided not to disturb them. 
 
 Early in th.e morning Elsa appeared at the 
 breakfast table beaming and blushing with 
 delight. She was as fresh and lovely as any 
 dew-gemmed bud in the rose garden. The French 
 butler discreetly withdrew at the first hint that 
 his services were not required. Thorpe gave 
 himself over to the bliss of the brief half hour 
 alone with his darling. He said nothing about 
 Kurt's message. To have dashed the joyous 
 spirits of the dear girl would have been cruel. 
 
 All too soon Lucy sent word that she and 
 Frau von Kissel were waiting to hear about 
 Kurt. Elsa accompanied Thorpe to the boudoir. 
 Frau von Kissel, primly costumed for the day, 
 was attacking a hearty German breakfast of 
 sausages and boiled cabbage, while Lucy lolled 
 in a lacy negligee, neglectful of her French roll
 
 116 The Blond Beast 
 
 and coffee. She took the kodak developing tank 
 from Thorpe and handed it to Marcelle, with 
 a word of smiling dismissal. 
 
 " Where's Kurt? " she broke in on Thorpe's 
 dutiful greeting to his promised mother-in-law. 
 " I wish to develop that nuisance of a film as 
 soon as possible. It's beginning to get on my 
 nerves. ' ' 
 
 " He took the train for Belgium, " said Thorpe. 
 "I'm afraid he has been recalled by Von Papp- 
 heim and can't come back at all unless with 
 the German army which means never." 
 
 He showed Kurt's card. His interpretation of 
 the words, coupled with what he had heard of 
 Von Pappheim's talk, drew many " Achs! " from 
 Elsa and her mother. But while the girl was 
 readily reassured by Thorpe's disbelief that 
 actual danger of war impended, Frau von Kissel 
 was not to be consoled. 
 
 " Krieg! krieg! " she moaned over her last 
 sausage. "Mem lieber Kurtzie! Der Tag is 
 set! " 
 
 " But that's absurd," remonstrated Lucy. " I 
 agree with Lan. You know how Kurt insists 
 that the Kaiser can and will keep Europe from 
 being so silly. Haven't we peace treaties and 
 the Hague Court to settle all disputes between 
 nations? War is out of date." 
 
 Frau von Kissel swallowed a mouthful of 
 cabbage. 
 
 * ' You are Americanisch you do not under- 
 stand. The baroness wrote that all harvesting 
 had ceased. Now I see why. The secret mobili- 
 zation has taken all the young peasants. We
 
 Shadows 117 
 
 go home quick by Switzerland, as Kurt has given 
 command. Have your car ready, liebe fraulein. 
 Elsa, haste to pack for our journey." 
 
 " There's not the slightest need to hurry," 
 interposed Lucy. "I'm sure that herr count 
 lied just to keep Kurt from us and rain may 
 have stopped your German harvesting. Here 
 is last evening's English paper from Paris. 
 Look Saturday, July twenty-fifth. Not a line 
 about any chance of war. Just the contrary. 
 England and Germany both have been advising 
 Serbia to comply with all the exactions of the 
 Austrian ultimatum. Now the poor little fellow 
 has eaten his crow. He has gone down on his 
 knees to the big bully. The diplomats say that 
 the danger is all over with." 
 
 " Good," said Thorpe. " I couldnt believe 
 war possible." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Lucy. " See Here's the 
 great French leader Jaures declaring that the 
 French and German peoples are comrades and 
 brothers. ' ' 
 
 " Social-democrat schweine! " denounced Frau 
 von Kissel. " Wait and see. Those who do not 
 fight for our God-given Kaiser shall be shot 
 down like dogs." 
 
 " Ja, they would be traitors to our holy 
 Emperor! " murmured Elsa. 
 
 A slight gesture by Lucy saved Thorpe from 
 an indiscreet remonstance. She smiled at the 
 flushed devotees of divine right. 
 
 "I'm social, and my father was a Democrat, 
 but let us have peace at our war council," she 
 rallied. ( ( Now, about going, there are two things
 
 118 The Blond Beast 
 
 I may never again have the chance to be the 
 chatelaine of a chateau minus the encumbrance 
 of a marital attachment. We're far too com- 
 fortable here to think of running if Kurt was 
 lied to by herr count." 
 
 ' ' Nein, nein, f raulein ! ' ' exclaimed the shocked 
 frau. " Herr Count von Pappheim is too high- 
 born to lie to even a lower officer. Der Tag is 
 set. We shall have kreig." 
 
 11 That's German for * war/ isn't it? Well, 
 then, here's the other thing If you people of 
 Europe are so crazy as to go to fighting each 
 other, I propose to keep out of the mess, like a 
 good American. There's herr count and those 
 ridiculous verboten snapshots to make me keep 
 clear of Germany until ' ' 
 
 " No doubt that's why Kurt suggested Switzer- 
 land," broke in Thorpe. He knows that the little 
 republic will be an Ararat of peace in the midst 
 of the war deluge." 
 
 " Yes, but I don't care to be in the midst. 
 The flood might rise too high if the diplo- 
 matic engineers are foolish enough to let the 
 dam break at all. Kurt once told me that the 
 neutrality of Belgium is absolutely guaranteed 
 by France and England and Germany. If I have 
 to leave my ducal castle, I shall go there." 
 
 Thorpe held up the card message. " Must be 
 sweltering down in the Belgian lowlands," he 
 said. " No place in Europe cooler now than 
 the Alps." 
 
 " Ja, f raulein," added Frau von Kissel. 
 " Besides, has not Kurt given command for us? " 
 
 " By what right? " demanded Lucy, her eyes
 
 Shadows , 119 
 
 flashing dangerously at Thorpe. " I am not a 
 German frau as yet. If I leave here at all, 
 I choose to go towards the coast, where I shall 
 be free to sail home whenever I wish." 
 
 " All right," Thorpe hastened to agree. " It 
 doesn't matter, just so we get into territory 
 certain to remain neutral. Tante and Elsa can 
 cross the German frontier from Belgium as easily 
 as from Switzerland, and we can all tour Belgium 
 together, if the war scare blows over as no 
 doubt it will. Only I know how Kurt would 
 worry if we should leave you alone, here in a 
 country that, ten to one, will be in the fight, if 
 there is one." 
 
 II Yes, if there is a fight," Lucy repeated the 
 qualification. 
 
 II 1 could hurry Elsa and Tante straight into 
 Germany by way of Chalons and Verdun, or the 
 Vitry-Nancy route. But you would then be 
 without a chaperon, Loo. I couldn't very well 
 come back." 
 
 Lucy smiled ironically and looked up at the 
 angelic face of Elsa, " That's true, Lan, And, 
 anyway, why should you? " 
 
 " Because you're my countrywoman and my 
 old chum! " he rejoined wdth unexpected heat. 
 " Come now, Loo. It's hard to tear yourself 
 away from this soft snap, I know. But be a 
 sport. Make it Belgium with us. You know 
 how we'd miss you." 
 
 The girl's eyes sank before his eager affection- 
 ate gaze. 
 
 " Well, I'm not sure. I'll see if you don't 
 try to rush me too much," she murmured.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 QUI VIVE? 
 
 Fran von Kissel promptly hurried Elsa off to 
 begin their packing. Thorpe sauntered from the 
 boudoir and, once clear, headed swiftly for the 
 garage. He soon had Henri and the garage men 
 hard at work overhauling Lucy's car. 
 
 At luncheon all appeared in their motoring 
 costumes, except Lucy. She wore one of her 
 most fragile house dresses, 
 
 " Going for a spin? " she bantered. 
 
 " No, we thought that you But don't think 
 we're trying to push you, Loo," Thorpe cut 
 in ahead of Frau von Kissel. " If you really 
 don't feel like starting to-day " 
 
 " Do not say it, Allant," reproached the frau. 
 " Better should we urge the liebe fraulein to 
 hasten. . .Ach, Loocee, the French are a low, 
 treacherous, degenerate folk, altogether unlike 
 our noble, high Deutsch race. I fear much for 
 you and Elsa should war overtake us among 
 them." 
 
 Lucy smiled. 
 
 " You talk as if we were living in the Dark 
 Ages or the Balkans. If Europe is so crazy as to 
 go to war, your country will show what its Jcultur 
 means, and the others will respond in kind and 
 
 120
 
 Qui Vive? 121 
 
 kindness. It will at least be a civilized war. No 
 harm will be done to women and children and 
 the aged/' 
 
 " French women and children and aged are as 
 bad as French men," asserted the high-born 
 frau. " As for the Russians, they are all 
 schweinhunds, male and female. God made them 
 so." 
 
 " Well, I find the bad French very polite and 
 agreeable," said Lucy. " Besides, I don't like 
 to miss our Sunday dinner. But to-morrow, if 
 you really are afraid . . . Not that I see the slight- 
 est cause for alarm. I'm more than ever con- 
 vinced that the herr count was only ragging 
 Kurt. . .You're quite sure, Lan, that Kurt won't 
 come back? " 
 
 11 There's a bare possibility he may, after 
 this war crisis if it is a crisis subsides. But 
 all the chances are that his leave has been 
 cancelled. ' ' 
 
 " Then there's something I'd like your opin- 
 ion on, if Frau von Kissel will kindly excuse 
 us You, too, my dear. ' ' 
 
 Elsa and her mother murmured their compli- 
 ance, and rather uneasily watched the liebe frau- 
 lein bear away Thorpe. She was a willful 
 fraulein and she was American, a combination 
 doubly difficult for their Teutonic minds to 
 comprehend. 
 
 Lucy unlocked a vault in the thick stone wall 
 of the castle, at one end of her suite. She took 
 out the negatives developed from the verb ot en 
 film. Thorpe saw that three were general views 
 of Krupp factory interiors. The rest pictured
 
 122 The Blond Beast 
 
 the whole and various details of a monstrous 
 squat cannon, of a type he had never before 
 seen. 
 
 " Hello/' he said. " This must be one of the 
 new howitzers that the German militarists have 
 kept hidden but have been bragging about just 
 as they have blurbed over their Zeppelins." 
 
 " Would you say these snapshots are harm- 
 ful? " asked Lucy. 
 
 Thorpe handed them back, with a doubtful 
 shake of his head. 
 
 1 * If enlarged, they might reveal valuable infor- 
 mation. Can't say. I'm no army man." 
 
 " Then I shall do what I told Kurt leave 
 them here, addressed to Polly's husband, the 
 duke, but not to be opened unless he hears of 
 the Germans having harmed Kurt or myself." 
 
 " Good idea," approved Thorpe. " I always 
 suspected you had brains, Loo." 
 
 " Maybe I have, but I haven't always used 
 them," murmured the girl. She turned away 
 brusquely. " That's all. Go back to your 
 indigo-eyed angel." 
 
 Thorpe went off, not a little puzzled and 
 ruffled by her curt dismissal. His afternoon and 
 evening were not as pleasant as they might have 
 been. Frau von Kissel kept Elsa near her and 
 fretted over the delay in the departure. Kurt 
 had expressed his will. Not to go at once was 
 most wrong. . .Perhaps to escape these com- 
 plaints, Lucy appeared only in time to share the 
 Sunday feast prepared by the chateau's chef. 
 After the dessert she again left her guests alone. 
 
 In the morning Frau von Kissel appeared at
 
 Qui Vive? 123 
 
 the breakfast table as early as Elsa and quite as 
 ready for the trip. Her usual phlegmatic placid- 
 ity had long been lost in a whirl of agitation 
 when, past mid-morning, Lucy at last came on 
 the scene. 
 
 " I've been repacking all the trunks I ordered 
 sent on from Paris," she explained. " They 
 must be ready fer shipment to me, in case I 
 don't come back to play chatelaine again." 
 
 " Ach, fraulein, once escaped from this land 
 of frog and snail eaters, you must never venture 
 to return among the low chatter-apes," urged 
 Frau von Kissel. " I fear more every moment." 
 
 Lucy took pity upon her panic-stricken guest 
 " If you'll order out the car, Lan." 
 
 A few minutes later the visitors passed out 
 through the gateway of the grand chateau as 
 they had entered it, with the exception that 
 Kurt's seat in the car was unoccupied. 
 
 A leisurely trip brought them to Chalons early 
 in the afternoon. After luncheon in a quaint 
 provincial cafe, Lucy smiled apologetically at 
 Frau von Kissel. 
 
 " I do so wish to shop a bit. That would mean 
 stopping overnight. Perhaps it's a mistake 
 our Belgian tour. Lan could take you and Elsa 
 by train, straight through to your own frontier, 
 in a few hours. ' y 
 
 But the fact that the trip was under way had 
 quieted the frau's panic. Lack of any excite- 
 ment on the part of the volatile French continued 
 to lull her apprehensions. She lay abed the next 
 forenoon, while Thorpe and the girls visited the 
 magnificent Gothic cathedral where Joan of Arc
 
 124 The Blond Beast 
 
 brought to be crowned the weakling whose king- 
 dom she had saved. 
 
 Upon their return to the hotel, the tourists for 
 the first time learned of Austria's astounding 
 declaration of war on Serbia, 
 
 Yet still the French and their newspapers 
 remained calm. It was believed that the trouble 
 would be localized perhaps another Balkan war 
 would be staged, with obstreperous little Serbia 
 for victim. Even Frau von Kissel was com- 
 pletely reassured. 
 
 Instead of hurrying out of France, the tourists 
 leisurely traveled west to Soissons, crossed to 
 the north of the Aisne, and meandered back 
 eastwards along the Chemin des Dames. 
 
 The second of August found them loitering 
 among the beautiful forested hills of the 
 Ardennes. . .But even this peaceful remote coun- 
 tryside was jarred by the first thunderclap of 
 the out-roaring war storm 
 
 Mid-afternoon the car's passage through one 
 of the larger villages was blocked by a massed 
 crowd of gaping, chattering peasants clustered 
 before the mairie. In response to Henri's sharp 
 queries, scores of loud tongues clacked the news, 
 to the accompaniment of long-drawn " 0-oo-la 
 las! " Belgrade bombarded by the Austrians; 
 Jaures, the pacifist, murdered in Paris; war de- 
 clared by Germany on Russia; general order of 
 mobilization throughout France. . . 
 
 Henri rose in his seat and faced about to the 
 tonneau, transformed in a twinkling from a 
 rather subservient mechanic to an erect, flashing- 
 eyed soldier.
 
 Qui Vive? 125 
 
 " Mademoiselle, La France calls her sons to 
 battle. Monsieur drives. He should hasten the 
 ladies of the enemy into neutral Belgium." 
 
 Thorpe sought to quiet the alarm of Elsa and 
 her mother, which was fast mounting towards 
 panic. What frightful deeds might not be 
 expected of these excited forest-dwelling savages 
 who crowded so close around the car? 
 
 Lucy reproached her chauffeur : ' * Why, Henri, 
 you can't mean you intend to desert me in the 
 pinch?" 
 
 " But am I not called to the colors, made- 
 moiselle? Pardon, and bon voyage to you and 
 your guests. I go quickly across the hill to the 
 train that will be in readiness to take those who 
 are mobilized. La Patrie shall be defended! " 
 
 " Wait," said Lucy, and she held out her 
 purse. ''Here is what's owing to you and 
 something over." 
 
 With innate gentility Henri thrust the purse 
 into his pocket without opening it, bowed to each 
 lady in turn, and flung an eloquent appeal to 
 the noisy crowd. The peasants hushed their 
 clamor, bared their heads, and bowed rustically 
 to Frau von Kissel and her fair daughter, with 
 friendly murmurs of, " Bon voyage, madame! 
 Bon voyage, la belle Allemande/ " 
 
 Henry swung out and stood at attention while 
 Thorpe took his place beside the elderly Mar- 
 celle. Under the control of its new driver, the 
 big car slowly rolled clear, out of the midst of 
 the courteous " savages." By the time it was 
 passing the last quaint little red-tiled cottage, 
 Thorpe had selected his route on the road map.
 
 
 
 126 The Blond Beast 
 
 The distance to the Belgian frontier on the east 
 was somewhat the nearer; but with the war 
 deluge bursting the floodgates, the name of Sedan 
 was ominous. Thorpe headed north, on the west 
 side of the Meuse, for the deep indentation of 
 Belgian territory that curves southward from 
 between Namur and Mons. 
 
 Though the car whirled honking through the 
 country hamlets without the slightest attempt 
 being made to check its flight, the village on the 
 frontier was not reached until close upon mid- 
 night. Here, between inexperience with war con- 
 ditions and his anxiety for the safety of his 
 charges, Thorpe fell into a serious blunder. At 
 so remote and quiet a village the party might 
 have been permitted to cross over the neutral 
 frontier into Belgium without trouble, despite 
 the German passports of Elsa and her mother. 
 The regular course would have been for the party 
 to have gone to the inn for the night and pre- 
 sented themselves to the customs inspector at a 
 comfortable hour in the morning. 
 
 Thorpe, however, figured that all the border 
 guards had been hurried away to defend the 
 German frontier south of the Duchy of Luxem- 
 bourg. He whirled into the village at high 
 speed, determined to " buck the line " and shoot 
 over into Belgium before the sleepy French offi- 
 cials could question his passage. The map 
 showed no stream to be crossed or fortifications 
 to be passed at this point. 
 
 All the village appeared sunk in the placid 
 stillness of midnight slumber. The great pur- 
 ring car shot swiftly down the center of the wide
 
 Qui Vive? 127 
 
 main street. A minute or two more, and the 
 party would be over the line on Belgium soil 
 
 Out of the dark shadow of a house front 
 shrilled a sharply challenging " Qui vive? " 
 
 Thorpe whirled on past the sentry. An instant 
 later the sharp report of a military rifle shattered 
 the silence of the night. Thorpe flung his weight 
 on the accelerator. But even as the car leaped 
 into racing speed, the road ahead glared with the 
 lurid dazzle of a red flare. Thorpe threw on 
 the brakes and managed to stop the car within 
 half a length of the heavy timber barricade that 
 barred the road. 
 
 From beyond the obstruction six or eight red- 
 legged blue-coated French soldiers came running. 
 They charged the car with bayonets held ready 
 to lunge. Elsa's terrified shriek sent the deadly 
 points to an up-tilt as the wielders perceived 
 that the occupants of the tonneau were all women. 
 No less suddenly, every weapon was swung 
 around to menace Thorpe. He folded his arms 
 and stared at the angry soldiers with a frown 
 of well-feigned surprise and indignation. 
 
 " Here you! Put down those guns. They 
 might hurt somebody," he reproved. " What 
 d'you mean by this? " 
 
 A corpulent gray-mustached little captain of 
 Territorials appeared from behind the car, bowed 
 profoundly to the ladies, and fixed Thorpe with a 
 suspicious eye. 
 
 " Monsieur have ze frontier attempt to steal," 
 he accused. 
 
 1 1 The frontier ! ' ' exclaimed Thorpe with simu- 
 lated surprise. " Why, how is that? I know we
 
 128 The Blond Beast 
 
 are still west of the Meuse, and this can't be 
 Givet." 
 
 " Ah! ah! But ze qui vive? You do not stop. 
 Explain, s'il vous plait." 
 
 Lucy leaned out to smile at the interrogator 
 in her most graciously condescending manner. 
 
 " My dear Captain, how happy I am that we 
 have found an officer and gentleman of France to 
 advise us. Like myself, Mr. Thorpe is an Amer- 
 ican. We of course sent our chauffeur hurrying 
 to mobilize, the instant we learned about the call 
 for the army. Since then Mr. Thorpe has been 
 driving as best he could with the road map for 
 guide.'* 
 
 " Ah, mademoiselle, tres bien. Chauffeur ver' 
 excellen' who drive rapid in ze night. But 
 Americaine oui, ouL Ze totaile partee Ameri- 
 caine, n'est-ce pas? ' 
 
 "No, only Miss Carew and myself," put in 
 Thorpe, as he saw the captain's shrewd old eye 
 glance in past Lucy to her shrinking companions. 
 
 The officer spoke to his men, bowed gallantly 
 to the ladies, and with a polite request for per- 
 mission, stepped up into the tonneau. 
 
 " Be so kind as to reverse," he directed 
 Thorpe. " Ze pleasure I have to escort to ze 
 Hotel de vitte."
 
 WAE AND RUMORS OF WAR 
 
 No captor could have been more courteous 
 and affable than the corpulent little captain. He 
 ordered vin et pain for the party served in his 
 office, and politely begged leave to inspect their 
 passports. There was no insulting denunciations 
 or violent actions when he saw the German forms 
 and writing and seals that disclosed the nation- 
 ality of Elsa and her mother. On the contrary, 
 his manner toward both became even more gal- 
 lant and polite. 
 
 ' ' The little fearsome ape ! ' ' Frau von Kissel 
 muttered her relief and contempt. " He dares 
 not to harm us. Der Tag has come, and he 
 knows that his land shall soon be subject to our 
 high race." 
 
 At the first word the little captain cocked his 
 ear. But if he understood the indiscreet remark, 
 he gave no sign of the fact. Afterwards, when 
 he escorted the party to the inn, Thorpe noticed 
 that a pair of soldiers followed. They were 
 placed on guard at the front and rear doors. 
 
 In the morning the captain was more affable 
 than ever and full of apologies for the necessity 
 of cross-examining the party. Each was ques- 
 tioned alone yet with such politeness that even 
 
 129
 
 130 The Blond Beast 
 
 Elsa forgot her timidity. Her mother was con- 
 firmed in the belief that the little man feared to 
 be stern. The touch of the steel under the velvet 
 was not felt until, at luncheon, the captain gave 
 his decision. 
 
 There was no reason why the maid and the 
 Americans should not be permitted to cross into 
 Belgium. But as for les Allemandes, alas ! was 
 not their country at war with La France? Al- 
 ready an enemy patrol had set foot on the sacred 
 soil of la patrie, and although the invaders had 
 been destroyed to a man, the war was on. A 
 thousand pardons, but distinguished madame and 
 most charming angelic mademoiselle must be 
 pleased to content themselves with official hos- 
 pitality until orders regarding their disposal 
 should be received from headquarters. 
 
 When the meaning of this forced itself upon 
 the comprehension of the over-confident Frau von 
 Kissel, she burst into a storm of vituperation that 
 amazed Thorpe no less than Lucy. Though the 
 Americans knew the German high-born lady to 
 be somewhat prejudiced, she had always before 
 appeared well bred and, as a rule, kindly. They 
 now were forced to realize for the first time the 
 profound depth and bitterness of racial hatred 
 as fostered and cherished by the spirit of 
 Prussianism. 
 
 Lucy turned to the suave little officer. " My 
 dear Captain, you see that my friends are fright- 
 ened out of their wits over what's to become of 
 them." 
 
 " Alas, mademoiselle, my ver', ver' profoun* 
 regret. Have I not endeavor pleasance? "
 
 War and Rumors of War 131 
 
 " Indeed, yes. You will continue no less kind, 
 I am sure, while I take your messenger back to 
 Paris and get the order to release my friends." 
 
 " Tres bien, mademoiselle." 
 
 "You you'd go, Lucee " gasped Elsa, 
 clutching Thorpe's shoulder. " But I cannot let 
 Allan leave me ! To be left here without him I 
 shall die! " 
 
 The ironic glance that Lucy shot at Thorpe 
 melted to half-amused, half-pitying tenderness 
 as it rested upon the golden head of the terrified 
 girl. 
 
 " Never fear, honey. I'll not take him from 
 you. I qualified as my own chauffeur years ago. 
 Allan shall stay here with you and your mother, 
 while I go back to straighten out this tangle." 
 
 " Nein, nein, fraulein! " protested Frau von 
 Kissel. " For you to go alone that I cannot 
 permit. ' ' 
 
 11 I shall have Marcelle with me, and for pro- 
 tector the honest soldier whom our friend the 
 captain will select as his messenger. Please say 
 no more. I ran you into this mess. It's for me 
 to get you out." 
 
 " I don't know about that, Loo," said Thorpe, 
 his eyes clouded with concern. " Anyway, Tante 
 is right. We had better try telegraphing. I 
 don't like the idea of your going back into France. 
 At least wait a day or two " 
 
 " Not a minute," broke in Lucy, and she 
 directed Marcelle to fetch her traveling bags 
 from the inn. 
 
 Thorpe's anxiety was eased when the mature, 
 steady-eyed Territorial selected as messenger
 
 132 The Blond Beast 
 
 by the captain proved to be a professional courier 
 of known repute. He could be relied upon to 
 safeguard Lucy against all annoyances and dan- 
 gers, and he could advise her how to get in touch 
 with officials. 
 
 At the start, haste may have caused the girl 
 to draw away the hand to which Thorpe was 
 clinging in reluctant farewell. The courier en- 
 tered the tonneau with Marcelle, as requested by 
 Lucy, who kissed Elsa and her mother, took 
 gracious leave of the little captain, and calmly 
 swung up into the driver's seat. The car slanted 
 clear of the gutter, gliding smoothly from low 
 into high. It left the village at something over 
 forty miles an hour. 
 
 " Mon Dieu! " exclaimed the little captain. 
 
 "But la belle Amencaine she ees une gra/nde 
 generate! ' 
 
 Thorpe set his teeth. He felt done set down. 
 Here he was left to cool his heels in innocuous 
 desuetude while Lucy played the man's part. 
 That was just the trouble with her. She was so 
 determined never to be the clinging vine. 
 
 Thanks be, no girl was so absolutely her oppo- 
 site in this respect as Elsa. . .He would at least 
 have the privilege of protecting his golden-haired 
 darling of quieting her maidenly fears and 
 enjoying her naive love. 
 
 Yet during the days of anxious waiting that 
 followed, even this blissful duty far from satis- 
 fied him. With startling rapidity, strange and 
 shocking events began to shatter in quick suc- 
 cession the peace and serenity of all Europe. His 
 concern over what might befall Elsa and her
 
 War and Rumors of War 133 
 
 mother as well as Lucy deepened from appre- 
 hension to dread a dread that, for the sake 
 of his companions, he was required to keep 
 masked behind a reassuring smile. 
 
 The favorable impression left by Lucy and the 
 fact that Thorpe was an American led the little 
 captain to favor his " guests " with stray bits 
 of disjointed news that came to the village. For 
 the first three or four days all lines of communi- 
 cation were closed. Then came a jumbled batch 
 of reports and rumors 
 
 Violation of the neutrality of Luxembourg by 
 Germany confirmed; demand by Germany for 
 free passage across Belgium; the defiant refusal 
 of the brave little people; violation of the neu- 
 trality of their country by invading armies of 
 Germans; the resultant declaration of war by 
 England; Liege besieged and Briey in France 
 captured by the Germans. 
 
 All Europe was aflame. Unbelievable, bloody, 
 merciless war had burst upon an astounded world 
 that as yet was too bewildered to comprehend 
 the catastrophe. The volcano of militarism had 
 erupted. Twelve million soldiers were rushing 
 to take up arms, or were already flooding over 
 frontiers frightful lava waves of enmity and 
 hatred, fierce to burn and destroy. 
 
 Until official confirmation of the German viola- 
 tion of Belgium's neutrality was received, the 
 French captain prevented his small force from 
 taking a single step over the boundary line to 
 fraternize with the friendly Belgian guards. Even 
 after the German armies had violated Belgium 
 the French officer held scrupulously to his orders
 
 134 The Blond Beast 
 
 not to cross the border. Yet this was of small 
 comfort to Thorpe. He knew that the French 
 army might now be expected to sweep north over 
 the line, to meet and check the invaders in the 
 Cockpit of Europe. 
 
 Elsa and her mother trembled at the thought 
 of being overtaken by the horde of "base degen- 
 erates." They prayed for the speedy return of 
 Lucy. They besought Thorpe to bribe the French 
 soldiers, or find other means of escape over the 
 frontier. 
 
 Soon came horrible rumors that put an end 
 to even Frau von Kissel's insistent urgings. 
 From the north reports spread of dreadful out- 
 rages being committed upon the Belgian civil 
 population by the German soldiers. Frau von 
 Kissel at once denounced these tales as Belgian 
 lies, and Thorpe quite agreed with her. The very 
 hideousness of the alleged atrocities made them 
 incredible to him. Scores of peaceful townsfolk 
 and peasants shot down in cold blood without 
 provocation; houses burned, often with their oc- 
 cupants ; women raped and murdered ; even little 
 children mutilated, if not bayoneted Pah! It 
 was all unbelievable. Such savagery might have 
 been possible in the Balkans. But in Western 
 Europe above all, to be attributed to the highly 
 disciplined troops of kultured Germany sheer 
 nonsense! 
 
 Rumors and fragments of real news flew thick 
 and fast exaggerated accounts of the first 
 British landing in France; the slaughter of Ger- 
 mans in their first rush on Liege; their return 
 and destruction of the famous Liege forts with
 
 War and Rumors of War 135 
 
 monstrous howitzers; the French attack and re- 
 pulse from Alsace; Italy's declaration of neutral- 
 ity; the acknowledgment of the German chan- 
 cellor that the invasion of Belgium was against 
 international law and would be recompensed; 
 and, along with this last, new and more hideous 
 tales of atrocities. 
 
 Then came the flood that Elsa and her mother 
 had so dreaded. Up out of the south swirled 
 a rush of French cavalry, light artillery, infantry. 
 At first only a few squads were routed through 
 this little frontier village off the main routes 
 of travel. The bulk of the French vanguard had 
 passed northwards on either side before the 
 eventful morning when a regiment of the Line 
 appeared on the road from the south. 
 
 Opposite the first cottages the regimental band 
 swelled out into the grand notes of the Marseil- 
 laise. The response was a crashing roar of sol- 
 diers' voices that rose above, dominated, and 
 drowned out the blare of the instruments. Before 
 the appalling burst of sound Frau von Kissel fled 
 with Elsa to hide under the ancient bed of their 
 tiny inn chamber, and Thorpe drew back from 
 the window out of which they had been peering. 
 
 This was not the melodious, piquant Gallic 
 national air of his indifferent memory. It was 
 the harsh, defiant, menacing battle-shout of 
 war-eager soldiers marching to hurl themselves 
 upon the enemy. The measured thud of their 
 down-stamping feet was like the beating of 
 a titanic deadened drum. Their shouts were not 
 singing, not music, but the fierce, almost fero- 
 cious cries of war-fired men who were prepared
 
 136 The Blond Beast 
 
 to die for the sake of vengeance and liberty. 
 
 The rhythmic din roared nearer, thundered 
 past the inn, and rolled on across the Belgian 
 border. Thorpe found himself standing with 
 hands clenched and muscles aquiver. His feel- 
 ing was not fear ; only awe and wonderment. He 
 was as one who at the same moment has come in 
 contact with fire and ice. A breath from the 
 yawning steel-fanged maw of the god of war 
 had swept over him and left him gasping. 
 
 He sprang forward to the window and leaned 
 out to peer after that red-legged blue column of 
 death, that was driving northwards to crash 
 into the van of the German invaders. When at 
 last it vanished in the dusty distance of the swel- 
 tering August forenoon, he brought his gaze to a 
 shorter focus. The timber barricade had been 
 hurled aside into the gutter. There were no 
 sentries up the road. The guard before the 
 door also had disappeared. 
 
 Thorpe sauntered through the inn and out 
 around the little garden. Still no sign of any 
 guard. In the front doorway he found the inn- 
 keeper and his wife gazing northwards up the 
 road, their faded old eyes still aglow. His cas- 
 ually spoken request to see the captain was met 
 by an upflinging of hands. 
 
 " Oo-oo-la-la! But did not monsieur know that 
 le capitaine had marched off with the gallant 
 regiment marched off straight for Berlin? " 
 
 " The guards? " 
 
 " All gone, all gone. Pouf! no more billet 
 pay. But the kind patronage of monsieur and 
 madame and mademoiselle "
 
 War and Rumors of War 137 
 
 Thorpe silenced the old man with a curt ges- 
 ture. This was no time for chatter. By a fleck 
 in the chances of war, the little captain and all 
 his men had been caught up and swept away, 
 leaving the captives unguarded. In the haste of 
 their departure some order may have been mis- 
 understood or overlooked, or the emergency may 
 have rendered the escape of the prisoners a mat- 
 ter of relative unimportance. 
 
 A second seemingly careless inquiry from 
 Thorpe made certain the fact that no one in the 
 village had received command to detain the un- 
 willing visitors. He proceeded to bargain with 
 the old couple to such good purpose that within 
 the hour he drove across the deserted boundary 
 into Belgium behind a span of young oxen. 
 
 Back of his seat, under the low cover of the 
 peasant's cart, Elsa and Frau von Kissel 
 crouched upon a truss of straw that eased the 
 jolting of the springless body. Never in her life 
 had the high-born frau dreamed of humbling her- 
 self to so plebian a conveyance, yet now she was 
 only too relieved to be moving in any manner. 
 She would gladly have walked, sooner than stay 
 on French soil. 
 
 The utmost efforts of Thorpe to secure horses 
 had failed. All had been requisitioned and driven 
 away by the French soldiers. The oxen were 
 Hobson's choice. Thorpe tried to be thankful he 
 had been given even that choice, but the responsi- 
 bility of his position rendered him far too 
 uneasy.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 EDGE OF THE TEMPEST 
 
 Thorpe's first plan was to 'work eastward. 
 Study of the road map caused him to reconsider. 
 To cross the spur of French territory that thrust 
 down the Meuse to Givet, they would have to 
 twice pass the French boundary, in and out, and 
 would then find themselves with forty miles of 
 Belgium still between them and the Grand Duchy 
 of Luxembourg. He decided to hold to a more 
 northerly course, until they could swerve across 
 the Meuse in Belgian territory, between Givet and 
 Dinant. 
 
 Ten miles or so of trundling along in the 
 clumsy cart behind the slow-plodding oxen, 
 brought them to a main road in the beautiful 
 country near Couvin. At a wayside shrine of 
 " Our Lady of Sorrows " that was a-flutter with 
 white paper pendants, an old Belgian peasant 
 woman was kneeling in prayer beside her worn 
 wooden shoes. Inquiry proved that she knew 
 nothing of the district beyond Couvin. Like most 
 peasants, she had never been a day's walk away 
 from the home farm. Thorpe tossed her a coin, 
 took a few of the unripe pears that she offered 
 out of her basket, and drove on along the lesser 
 road. 
 
 The fugitives had gone hardly a mile when 
 
 138
 
 Edge of the Tempest 139 
 
 behind them, around the last tree-screened bend 
 in the road, swept a car whose red-gold body 
 shone like burnished copper. Elsa's timidity 
 had kept her watchful of the road rearwards. 
 She was first to see the coming car. At her cry 
 Thorpe halted the oxen and stared around. 
 
 The car was already close. It sagged to an 
 easy stop alongside the cart. In the tonneau 
 sat Marcelle and the courier. From the driver 's 
 seat Lucy looked across at Thorpe, the extreme 
 lustre of her eyes contradicting the ironic amuse- 
 ment of her smile. 
 
 " Hello, Lan," she greeted. " What's your 
 hurry? " 
 
 " Got tired of waiting for you. The captain 
 moved on, and we decided to follow suit." 
 
 " You don't call this moving, do you? " she 
 bantered. " Only thing it could beat is the 
 snail trot of the red tape-ists. I thought I'd 
 never ' ' 
 
 * ' But you are here, Loo thank God ! ' ' cried 
 Thorpe with a fervor that brought a sudden 
 flood of color into the girl's cheeks. 
 
 She. bit her lip, and by a sharp gesture towards 
 the cart, checked his rush to clasp her hand. 
 
 " You're delaying the game. Help them 
 shift." 
 
 Thorpe swung down the over-joyed Elsa and 
 eased the heavy descent of her heat-flushed but 
 now smiling mother. The courier sprang to 
 transfer from cart to car the bags and suitcases 
 of the fugitives. Elsa had darted ahead into the 
 tonneau, to reach over and fling her arms about 
 Lucy.
 
 140 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Beloved, brave friend! " she cried. " What 
 gladness that you also have escaped! " 
 
 Lucy returned the young girl's fervent kiss, 
 gave the embracing arms a pat, loosened them, 
 and crooked a finger at Thorpe. He took the 
 seat beside her. The courier sprang in behind. 
 Away whirled the car, while behind it the aban- 
 doned oxen began slowly to swing around towards 
 the grass at the edge of the roadway. 
 
 The innkeeper had told Lucy about the release 
 of the prisoners, and she had been directed by 
 the old peasant woman at the cross roads. She 
 did not wait for Thorpe to ask questions. 
 
 " Such a mess," she said. " I thought Pd 
 never get back. If the rest of the world is like 
 Paris, it's on its head, spinning like a groggy 
 top. The bureau clerks had me tangled in a 
 hopelessly hard knot. Our embassy is literally 
 swamped with a jam of panicky tourists our 
 own and the Germans and Austrians. I couldn't 
 bother the ambassador. I laid in wait with my 
 car, and at last had the luck to give a cabinet 
 member a lift. His card won me an audience with 
 the war minister, who happens to be an intimate 
 friend of Polly's husband. That and my offer 
 to take my courier guard to the front with 
 dispatches ' ' 
 
 " To the front! " exclaimed Thorpe. " But 
 isn't that unsafe? And have we the right as neu- 
 trals to help the French? " 
 
 " If you'd seen how they're seizing all private 
 cars . . . I 'd have been left stranded. The truth 
 is, they took my car for the courier, but were 
 courteous enough to let me come along. I wanted
 
 Edge of the Tempest 141 
 
 to help you see Elsa and Tante through the lines. 
 Lan, we must take chances. There's no telling 
 what may happen. I haven't a cent left, and no 
 bank will give me anything. My letters of credit 
 are waste paper. We have had to requisition 
 food and gasoline to get here from Paris." 
 
 " And I paid out all my cash for that ox 
 express," ruefully admitted Thorpe. " Great 
 prospect. ' ' 
 
 " It might be worse," consoled the girl, slow- 
 ing a little in a swoop through a village. " Tell 
 them I have an order for their safe conduct 
 through the French lines." 
 
 Thorpe hastened to pass the good news back 
 into the tonneau. Elsa cried out with delight, 
 and Frau von Kissel so far forgot herself as to 
 beam even at Marcelle and the French courier. 
 
 The car raced on to the northeast towards the 
 war front. Of a sudden it began to overtake 
 and pass columns of infantry and batteries of 
 artillery. Thorpe suggested his plan to cut 
 east across the Meuse below Givet. 
 
 " No," said Lucy. " Our dispatches are for 
 the general in command of the troops that should 
 be at Dinant. ' ' 
 
 Hardly had the girl spoken when a cordon of 
 soldiers across the road forced her to halt the 
 car. The courier dispatch-bearer promptly 
 showed orders that opened the way for the party. 
 During the stop he learned that the Germans 
 had occupied Dinant, only to be driven back 
 eastwards by the French. Though both forces 
 were said to have been no more than reconnoiter- 
 ing parties, each numbered so many thousands
 
 142 The Blond Beast 
 
 that in previous wars the skirmish would have 
 been called a hattle. The light field guns of the 
 French had been too much for the machine-guns 
 of the Germans. 
 
 Frau von Kissel looked contemptuously incred- 
 ulous until the party passed a column of German 
 prisoners jagers with feathers in their caps 
 that were being marched southwards. Her jowl 
 fell at the disconcerting sight, and her faded blue 
 eyes gazed back at the prisoners, wide with 
 bewilderment. She was still in a daze when the 
 car turned down into the picturesque valley of 
 the Meuse, near Dinant, and was directed to the 
 headquarters of the French forces. 
 
 The commander was away, up along the rail- 
 road on the west bank. But the young staff lieu- 
 tenant in charge proved to be even more affable 
 than the little captain on the border. There was 
 a homelike American twang in his introduction 
 of himself as a graduate of the Boston Tech. 
 
 " Dee-lighted to meet you, Miss Carew you 
 too, Mr. Thorpe and the ladies of the opposi- 
 tion. . .No need to hold you over for the Old Man. 
 These orders are positive. I'll issue passes to 
 Dinant and out through our patrol lines. . .Only 
 thing, I'll have to lift your joy- wagon, Miss 
 Carew. Sorry, but we need it in our business. 
 Out east you may pick up an ox cart. It's only 
 about twenty-five miles to where the er 
 Dutchmen are entrenched on the Ourthe." 
 
 Lucy peaked her dark eyebrows at her friends, 
 shrugged, and submitted to the inevitable. 
 
 " It's too bad, Lan. I had planned to walk 
 back to Dinant, and let you motor them on
 
 Edge of the Tempest 143 
 
 through the German lines. Now it's impossible." 
 " You were? But there'll be no need. We 
 must keep together," urged Thorpe. " You're 
 coming on with us." 
 
 " Ja, dear Lucee," murmured Elsa. " We can- 
 not with you part." 
 
 "I'm afraid your police would think the same, 
 honey. Anyway, my mind has been made up all 
 along. I shan't venture into Germany, unless it's 
 behind the French army." 
 
 The lieutenant bowed his appreciation of the 
 double compliment. Frau von Kissel exclaimed 
 in shocked protest at the bare suggestion: 
 
 " Impossible, fraulein! No invader shall ever 
 set foot on the holy soil of the Fatherland." 
 
 " Then I'll beg to be excused until herr count 
 retires from active service," said Lucy. " My 
 idea was to run home out of this silly war mess. 
 But to part with my car ' ' 
 
 She smiled at the handsome young Frenchman. 
 
 " Consider the circumstances, Lieutenant. My 
 beloved chugger never would be the same again 
 without me to match its symphony of hues. If it 
 is commandeered, I go along as chauffeur." 
 
 ' ' But but, mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " Ataboy," put in Thorpe. " If she won't 
 come with us, ship her straight to Calais. This 
 is no place for stray girls." 
 
 Lucy smiled. 
 
 " Pay no attention to him, Lieutenant. He's 
 engaged. I'm not but I mean to be. I've 
 learned that neutrals can help in Eed Cross work. 
 My ultimatum is: Car and girl, one and insep- 
 arable, for hospital service Marcelle thrown
 
 144 The Blond Beast 
 
 in to boot. United we run, divided we fall by the 
 wayside. ' ' 
 
 The black eyes of the lieutenant flashed admir- 
 ing approval. 
 
 " Tres Men! Ultimatum accepted P. D. Q., 
 subject to endorsement by the Old Man. We're 
 short on ambulances . . . There are no Fritzies in 
 Dinant to-day. You might chase your friends 
 across before reporting at the field hospital for 
 your insignia. Here is an order to the head 
 surgeon. ' ' 
 
 There followed gracious bows and smiles from 
 all except Frau von Kissel. The car shot away 
 and soon was rolling across the Meuse bridge. 
 It turned along the river-front street where the 
 picturesque little Belgian town lay huddled be- 
 tween the river and the limestone cliffs on which 
 towered an undefended, obsolete old fortress. 
 Here and there the buildings were scarred with 
 shrapnel and bullet marks that told of the recent 
 clash between the French and Germans. 
 
 Lucy stopped at the hotel St. Jacques, where a 
 street sloped up at right angles to the river and 
 connected with an eastward road. 
 
 " This is about as far as I should go, I guess," 
 she said. " Wouldn't the hotel be a good place 
 for you to stop over-night, Lan? You might be 
 able to get some kind of rig for to-morrow." 
 
 " Right-o," agreed Thorpe. 
 
 While he handed down Elsa and Frau von 
 Kissel, Lucy pointed out their luggage to a pair 
 of very ready porters. She came around to clasp 
 the hand of her departing chaperon. 
 
 11 Grood-by, Tante. Pm so sorry you can't
 
 Edge of the Tempest 145 
 
 have the car, as I planned. But from what they 
 say, you can reach the German army in a day, 
 even behind oxen. After that, of course, you'll 
 be in clover. Kurt, I suppose, is in Alsace or 
 way off on the Russian front. When you write, 
 be sure to give him my kindest regards." 
 
 " Ach, no more than regards, Loocee? " 
 sighed the fond mother. 
 
 The girl smiled past Elsa at the troubled face 
 of Thorpe. 
 
 " But I'm to be on the other side," she ban- 
 tered. " We'll wait and see if the beatitudes 
 work in war time." 
 
 Thorpe caught her hands as she drew away 
 from the fervid embrace of the tearful-eyed Elsa. 
 
 " Don't be a chump, Loo," he urged. *' I'll 
 have a complication of insomnia and indigestion 
 if you don't promise to hit the high places for 
 Calais. This frontier is going to be a good local- 
 ity to be away from, if the Germans come on. 
 I know enough about their war-machine to feel 
 sure they'll literally steam-roller the French." 
 
 Lucy smiled. " All the more need, then, for 
 Bed Cross workers." 
 
 " Don't joke," muttered Thorpe, wincing. 
 " You might get caught in a fight, or a shell 
 might Can't you realize? These modern guns 
 shoot for miles." 
 
 Lucy's smile took on a bantering twist. 
 
 " Remember how, in a thunderstorm, we used 
 to make sure we weren't struck? counted three 
 after each big lightning flash. I'll do that if any 
 shells go off near me. Actually, I'm just dying 
 to see what a real battle is like, after all those
 
 146 The Blond Beast 
 
 queer movie things. . .Well, I must get back and 
 find out my future duties." 
 
 11 They'll never allow a girl to stay near the 
 front. It's against all military rules. Thanks 
 be, they'll send you packing 1 " 
 
 " Quien sabe? Good-bye and, say, Lan " 
 the girl 's voice lost its ironic note ' ' keep away 
 from the fighting. You have Elsa, and with Kurt 
 gone from home, she and Tante will need you 
 in Berlin." 
 
 " I'll steer clear of the mess if you will," bar- 
 gained Thorpe. 
 
 Her gauntleted hands drew free from his reluc- 
 tant clasp. 
 
 " Wait, fraulein wait," whispered Frau von 
 Kissel. She cast a glance over her shoulder at 
 the group of Belgians in front of the hotel cafe, 
 and bent closer. " We go to our glorious army. 
 You have come from Paris. Maybe you have 
 information about the French mobilization 
 information that shall help the crushing of the 
 chatter-apes, nicht? " 
 
 " Oh, but don't you see, I'm an American a 
 neutral? " explained Lucy. "I'm not supposed 
 to tell things that might help either side." 
 
 Frau von Kissel flushed. " What I Not even 
 for the Fatherland against these low races? I 
 had thought you more noble-minded. Besides, is 
 it not Kurt loves you? Come, now, liebe fraulein. 
 Nobody will tell you told." 
 
 " You heard me say I'm a neutral," said 
 Lucy. As if to offset the sharpness of this, she 
 turned to kiss Elsa with quivering tenderness. 
 " Lan loves you, honey. Be good to him! " she
 
 Edge of the Tempest 147 
 
 t 
 whispered as she embraced the tearful-eyed girl. 
 
 With a wave to the others and a quick, exultant 
 laugh, she popped into the car. It swirled around 
 under her skilled guidance and shot off up the 
 street. 
 
 The Belgian hotel-keeper reassured his three 
 new guests with the positive assertion that they 
 could safely remain in Dinant for days if they 
 wished. True, the long delayed advance of the 
 German army from the Ourthe had begun. But 
 there would be no fighting in Dinant The 
 French had withdrawn to the west bank of 
 the Meuse, and not one of all the inhabitants of 
 the town so much as dreamed of resisting the 
 invaders. They knew too well the dreadful fate 
 that had befallen the alleged franc-tireurs at 
 Liege and other places in the north. Not the 
 slightest excuse should the Germans have for 
 suspecting Dinant of resistance. Notices had 
 been posted and every weapon in town collected, 
 ready to be delivered over to the invaders. 
 
 11 That settles it, Tante," said Thorpe. " You 
 and Elsa shall have a comfortable night. If I 
 can't scare up some kind of a conveyance this 
 evening, to-morrow morning we'll hike out east- 
 wards, afoot, till we can find another cart." 
 
 To this Frau von Kissel readily agreed. As 
 Thorpe was out of funds, he presented her letter 
 of credit to the hotel keeper, with the explanation 
 that her son was a Prussian officer of high con- 
 nections. The eagerness with which the Belgian 
 offered to pay gold for the full face of the 
 draft betrayed the dread that lay behind his 
 obsequiousness.
 
 148 The Blond Beast 
 
 But even the gold and the aid of an eager inter- 
 preter failed to locate any means of transporta- 
 tion in Dinant, All conveyances and horses had 
 been swept away by the contending French and 
 Germans. Thorpe had to return to the hotel with 
 no better news than the information that the 
 bridge had been mined by the French. At his 
 advice, Elsa and her mother retired early, to be 
 rested for the next day's tramp eastwards. 
 
 A few minutes later, at a quarter past nine, 
 Thorpe also turned in for the night. Hardly, it 
 seemed, had he fallen asleep when he was roused 
 by a clattering roar somewhat like the racket of 
 a racing motorcycle. In the midst came explo- 
 sions that shook the hotel. He jerked on his 
 clothes and peered out into the hotel corridor. 
 
 Cries of terror and a smell of powder fumes 
 sent him darting to the door of his companions' 
 room. Elsa was shrieking. When at last he was 
 able to make himself heard, Frau von Kissel 
 opened the door. In the alarm of the moment, 
 neither she nor Thorpe nor Elsa had thought for 
 their deshabille. The terror-stricken girl cast 
 herself into her lover's arms and clung to him, 
 shuddering. But the instant he perceived that 
 neither she nor her mother had been injured he 
 put her from him. 
 
 " Dress yourselves," he commanded. " There's 
 no shooting on this side of the hotel. All is in 
 front. I'll see what's happening." 
 
 " Nein, nein! " shrieked Elsa. 
 
 He eluded her desperate attempt to again 
 clutch him, slammed the door, and rushed back 
 to his own room. The average white man is a
 
 Edge of the Tempest 149 
 
 cripple without shoes. The moment he was shod, 
 Thorpe hastened down through the bombarded 
 hotel. A group of panic-stricken Belgians were 
 huddled in an inner courtyard. He passed them 
 and peered into the shattered front of the hotel, 
 just as another inhurled bomb exploded. 
 
 Though half stunned by the shock, he dashed 
 forward over the wreckage, through the stifling 
 smoke, to leap out into the flame-lighted street. 
 A group of gray-uniformed soldiers, wearing 
 small German helmets, were about to cast other 
 bombs into the hotel. 
 
 " Hold I Hold! " Thorpe shouted in German. 
 " Deutsch within Frau von Kissel! " 
 
 One of the soldiers rushed forward with up- 
 swung bayonet. 
 
 "Liar! Engldnder schwein! " he yelled. 
 " Kaput! " 
 
 By the quickest of side-stepping Thorpe dodged 
 the lunging bayonet. He locked his arms about 
 the infuriated German and held him as a shield 
 against the upswinging bayonets of the others. 
 
 " Dolts! Donkeys! " he berated them in their 
 own language. ' ' I am American not English 
 from Berlin friend of Lieutenant von 
 Kissel Imperial Guard... His mother and sis- 
 ter within here." 
 
 " Surrender! " commanded the squad leader. 
 
 " With pleasure," agreed Thorpe. 
 
 He freed his clumsily struggling captive and 
 stepped back against the shattered wall of the 
 hotel. The corporal signed to his men. 
 
 "All together," he ordered. "Ready 
 aim ' *
 
 150 The Blond Beast 
 
 Five rifles swung up with muzzles pointed at 
 Thorpe's breast. He glared at them, astounded. 
 During the instant that the corporal waited to 
 bark out the command to fire, a myriad of 
 thoughts flashed across the field of Thorpe's con- 
 sciousness : Could this be war this murderous 
 attack on an unarmed, inoffensive neutral? He 
 was being given no chance, not even a drumhead 
 court martial ! . . . And their own countrywomen 
 to perish in the bombed hotel ! . . . The horror of 
 Lucy's fate, if captured!. . .War bloody, merci- 
 less, blundering. . .What harm had he done?... 
 To be shot down like a dog he, one of Ger- 
 many's most ardent admirers!... 
 
 The snarl-drawn lips of the corporal started 
 to pucker for the word of death A cloak- 
 wrapped figure flung forward past Thorpe's 
 shoulder. Between his hard-staring, unflinching 
 eyes and the deadly rifle muzzles came a maze 
 of disheveled golden hair. The girl's hands 
 stretched out to the soldiers in tremulous appeal. 
 
 " Ach! Ach I" she quavered. " My betrothed 
 spare him! Do not do not shoot! He is 
 the friend of my brother, Lieutenant von Kissel 
 of the Imperial Guard. Ach! spare him, good 
 men! " 
 
 The German of Elsa's face could not be mis- 
 taken even by the fight-maddened soldiers. Their 
 snarls became transformed into the slavering 
 grins of boarhounds. 
 
 " Schmitz Heinz," commanded the corporal, 
 " escort the fraulein and the American clear of 
 the town. When they are passed back, the Prus- 
 sian Guard can tell if they lie. Hasten."
 
 Edge of the Tempest 151 
 
 " My mother! " cried Elsa. " She is in the 
 hotel. We cannot leave her." 
 
 " Then fetch her quickly, fraulein. We 
 shall hold your betrothed as hostage against 
 treachery." 
 
 Elsa kissed her lover and darted into the hotel. 
 All except two guards charged back up the street, 
 where many houses were bursting out in flames. 
 Along the river front motor cars armed with 
 machine-guns were pouring a hail of bullets 
 into the defenseless town. 
 
 " Have the French been firing across the 
 river? " asked Thorpe. 
 
 " New," answered one of the guards. "Civil- 
 ians have fired the verdammt franc-tireurs." 
 
 " But how can that be? All the weapons in 
 town have been delivered up to the burgo- 
 master." 
 
 " We have our orders," growled the soldier. 
 He added significantly: " Only an enemy will 
 say that what we do is bad." 
 
 Thorpe asked no more questions.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE GRAY TORRENT 
 
 Very soon Elsa came hurrying back with her 
 mother. The high-born fran was fully dressed. 
 She was also fully self-possessed. The reaction 
 from fright had filled her with vast indignation. 
 "When Thorpe sprang to take the baggage borne 
 by her and Elsa, she shook her head and turned 
 severely upon the two soldiers. 
 
 " Idle dogs! " she chided. " How dare you 
 so disturb high-born noblewomen and loaf while 
 they cany out their bags! I will report you to 
 the High Command." 
 
 In any circumstances less tragic, Thorpe could 
 have laughed outright at the consternation of the 
 morose pair. With startled " Aufs! ' they 
 clicked their heels and came to rigid salute, only 
 to double over in forward lurches to relieve the 
 high-born ladies of their burdens. Neither man 
 objected when Thorpe ran into the hotel for 
 his own baggage. 
 
 When he dashed out again the others were 
 crunching off over the splintered glass of the 
 hotel windows. He overtook them as they hur- 
 ried up the middle of the roadway between the 
 blazing houses. An unarmed man in civilian 
 clothes lay sprawled across the gutter, his face 
 
 152
 
 The Gray Torrent 153 
 
 and throat overspread with a red flood from 
 bayonet stabs. Elsa cried out and covered her 
 eyes with her hands. 
 
 Farther along the party came to where a group 
 of soldiers were giving first aid to four wounded 
 comrades. They cursed the people of Dinant as 
 franc-tireurs, and in the next breath called their 
 injured mates dolts for having hurt themselves 
 with their own bombs. One of the helpers dropped 
 his bandages and sprang up to aim his rifle at 
 Thorpe. He wilted under Frau von Kissel's 
 scornful command to stop his foolishness. 
 
 The party had passed on only a few score 
 paces when a woman ran out of a bombed house, 
 crying in French that her little girl's foot had 
 been blown off. Without a trace of hesitancy, 
 Heinz shot the frantic mother through the heart 
 
 " God! " cried Thorpe. " A woman YouVe 
 murdered her! ' 
 
 The soldier grinned ferociously. " She was 
 attacking us, the franc-tireur sow! That's what 
 all Dinant will get They harbored the French 
 apes." 
 
 " Ach, the low Belgians, they should be pun- 
 ished," agreed Frau von KisseL " But this 
 woman she did not mean harm. You shot 
 too soon." 
 
 " How was I to know, high-born frau! "We are 
 in the enemy's country. Our orders are to take 
 no chances. War is war." 
 
 A mile or so out on the Cerny road the party 
 passed a motor ambulance. Within the hour it 
 came rumbling back from Dinant. Schmitz 
 stopped it and gave Thorpe and the ladies into
 
 154 The Blond Beast 
 
 the care of its black-bearded surgeon. Though 
 the four soldiers who had been injured by their 
 own bombs lay on the stretchers, there was room 
 left to accommodate the refugees and their 
 
 As the two guards saluted and hastened back 
 to rejoin the attack on unresisting Dinant, Thorpe 
 drew in a shuddering breath of relief. Thanks 
 be, the ambulance was swiftly bearing him and 
 Elsa away from that fringe of hell ! But what 
 was this the surgeon was saying? 
 
 In reply to Elsa's gentle regrets that even the 
 enemy must suffer, the man of healing sought to 
 soothe her with cheerful assertions of the allevi- 
 ation that modern surgery would bring to the 
 battlefields. The war would be overwhelming to 
 the enemy, and therefore mercifully short. In a 
 week or two the French army would be crushed 
 and Paris captured. There would be none of the 
 sickness and starvation and wastage of a long- 
 drawn-out war. Given more Red Cross helpers, 
 the suffering even of the wounded would be brief. 
 Greatest need of all was stretcher-bearers not 
 afraid to pick up wounded men in the midst of 
 the fighting and rush them back to where they 
 could be given surgical aid. 
 
 Before Thorpe 's mental gaze rose a vision of 
 Lucy wheeling her big car along the French lines, 
 with bullet-maimed blue-coated soldiers staining 
 her delicate tonneau linings a more vivid red 
 than that of their absurd pantaloons. If she, a 
 mere slip of a girl, could think of lingering within 
 sound of the cannon, what of himself I Here was 
 this black-bearded surgeon recounting how many
 
 The Gray Torrent 155 
 
 more of the injured could be saved if treated 
 before the infection of their wounds by gangrene. 
 
 Of a sudden Thorpe heard his own voice asking 
 a sharp question : "A neutral can he be a 
 stretcher-bearer in your service? " 
 
 " Ja, ja, and most welcome, Herr Thorpe. " 
 
 But Elsa had caught the purport of the inquiry. 
 
 " Allan! You will not you cannot so leave 
 me! There is no need. We are glad that Kurt 
 fights for the Fatherland. But you you are 
 not bound. You will come with us to Berlin! " 
 
 Thorpe pointed to the stretchers. 
 
 " Can you ask that of me, darling, when you 
 hear those poor fellows groaning. You know 
 how glad Pd be to stay with you always. But 
 we've seen a little of what war means.'* 
 
 " You are not a soldier. There will be no 
 glory only danger! " 
 
 " Glory be hanged! You must understand, 
 Elsa, It's the thought of men lying out there, 
 suffering, in the rain or blistering sun. Think 
 how it may be with Kurt." 
 
 Frau von Kissel roused from the half doze 
 into which the vibrant humming of the ambulance 
 had lulled her " Ach, mem Kurtzie...Be not 
 so selfish, Elsa, If Allant helps, another man 
 will be able to fight, nicU? " 
 
 11 But I can't vounteer if that is true, Tante," 
 protested Thorpe. " It wouldn't be neutral." 
 
 " Pfuil " she hissed. " Neutral? You so near 
 to a betrothal . . . and against French apes and 
 Russian schwemhunds! " 
 
 11 The aid of Herr Thorpe would make no 
 change in the regular hospital and ambulance
 
 156 The Blond Beast 
 
 contingent,*' interposed the surgeon opportunely. 
 
 " That settles it, Doctor," Thorpe hastened to 
 hush Elsa's entreaties. " But you're with the 
 Saxons, you say. Could I get with the Prussian 
 Guard Corps? I'd like to be near my friend, 
 Lieutenant von Kissel." 
 
 " Ja. The Prussian Guard marches behind 
 us all under the High Command of Herr 
 General von Hausen, late chief of staff of the 
 Duke of Wurttemberg. " 
 
 Frau von Kissel flushed and beamed with the 
 delight of a fond mother. " God be praised! 
 Kurtzie Kurtzie! AchI to see him! " 
 
 " I'll be with his regiment, sweetheart," 
 Thorpe whispered in the pretty ear of his silently 
 weeping beloved. " Isn't that bully? " 
 
 The girl pressed her quivering lips upon his 
 hand in a fervor of abnegation. " For Kurt 
 and the Fatherland go. But do not take need- 
 less risks! " 
 
 " Oh, I'm like the Chocolate Soldier. Count on 
 me to dodge lead and lie doggo when the lying is 
 good," rallied Thorpe. 
 
 Elsa nestled closer to him. The surgeon had 
 turned to examine by the light of an electric torch 
 one of the wounded men who had ceased moaning. 
 Frau von Kissel was dozing off again. The lovers 
 thrilled with the bliss of touching heads and 
 hands and shoulders. . .while almost within arm's 
 reach of them the face of the soldier who no 
 longer moaned turned gray and cold. Nowhere 
 does life pulse warmer than in the presence of 
 death. Nowhere is heaven more heavenly than 
 on the brink of hell.
 
 The Gray Torrent 157 
 
 Challenges, flares, quick-spoken countersigns 
 Thorpe peered out and saw that the ambulance 
 was in the midst of a vast bivouac, shadowed 
 by woods. The car veered into the courtyard of 
 a Belgian villa. Within this beautiful country 
 home of some wealthy Belgian, all was riotous 
 confusion and destruction furniture upset, 
 glass and pictures smashed, valuables plundered. 
 But only Thorpe commented on the wreckage. 
 
 Elsa and her mother ate heartily of the rich 
 food that was served them in the ravaged dining- 
 room by a hospital orderly. The ladies were 
 then bowed to the personal suite of the vanished 
 owner of the villa. Thorpe had a guest chamber 
 hardly less luxurious. His qualms over accepting 
 the brigand-like hospitality were not eased when, 
 at dawn, he found the three survivors of the self- 
 bombed soldiers lying on straw in the littered 
 parlor. 
 
 The black-bearded surgeon fastened Eed Cross 
 armlets on his sleeves and gave him hasty first- 
 aid instructions while they waited for the ladies. 
 After a heavy breakfast, the three guests whirled 
 away in the gray car of a young staff officer who 
 had heard General von Hausen mention the Von 
 Kissels. 
 
 From the moment he left the villa Thorpe 
 found himself staring around with an astonish- 
 ment that verged upon awe. Elsa and her mother 
 all but wept with patriotic pride. The whole 
 countryside about the villa swarmed with mul- 
 titudes of German soldiers, all uniformed in a 
 marvelous green-tinged gray that melted from 
 view even at fairly short distances.
 
 158 The Blond Beast 
 
 A vast number of units had already marched 
 on from the night's bivouac, led by uhlans and 
 the bicycle corps. Other multitudes were swing- 
 ing into or along the road with the precision and 
 absolute lack of confusion that iron discipline 
 alone could have enforced among such numbers. 
 Uhlans on magnificent horses dashed forward 
 beside the dense columns in the road, their lance 
 pennants fluttering and bell-like bugles blowing. 
 
 The young aide's staff car raced at high 
 speed eastward on the narrow strip of roadway, 
 that was left clear along the side by the westward- 
 advancing river of troops. Thorpe's astonish- 
 ment increased, instead of lessening. The 
 on-sweeping gray host was not a mere stream 
 it was a flood. There was nothing about it to 
 suggest the traditional gay-plumaged pageant of 
 war. All the vast menacing torrent was the same 
 dull and somber field gray regiment after regi- 
 ment with iron-shod boots beating time on the 
 dusty gray macadam, rattling gray machine-guns 
 and three-inch cannon, ponderous rumbling mis- 
 shapen gray howitzers of six- and nine- and 
 twelve-inch calibre, gray ammunition carts and 
 transportation wagons, gray staff cars that 
 whisked back and forth at terrific speed along the 
 rigidly straight clean-cut edge of the gigantic 
 unbroken torrent. 
 
 In partial offset to the lack of bright colors and 
 the ominous heavy rumbling of the war monsters, 
 there was relief in the many blaring bands and 
 the frequent bursts of song from the swift- 
 marching thousands of infantry most often 
 " DeutscMand, Deutschland uber Alles." Thorpe
 
 The Gray Torrent 159 
 
 did not have to tax his imagination to picture 
 the invading myriads as a gray tide of storm and 
 death sweeping irresistibly onward to deluge and 
 overwhelm all France. 
 
 Yet somewhere far back in his consciousness 
 lingered a shadow of a doubt. He remembered 
 the fierce defiance with which the French regi- 
 ment had shouted the Marseillaise as they 
 marched into Belgium to meet the gray invaders. 
 Such men would fight to the death. . .Yes, to the 
 death... And what of it? How could even such 
 zeal as that avail against the tremendous invin- 
 cible might of Imperial Germany? 
 
 Endless as seemed the grim array of the Saxon 
 corps, the speeding car at last swirled past the 
 main body and turned aside to a chateau that 
 had been chosen for staff headquarters. Here the 
 monotonous field gray was relieved by the 
 brighter uniforms of high staff officers light 
 blue and silver, scarlet and gold, burnished hel- 
 mets, patent leather boots, gay plumes all the 
 familiar gorgeous military panoply to- which 
 Thorpe was accustomed in Berlin. 
 
 The young aide escorted his guests in, past a 
 dubious sentry. Fortune favored the visitors. 
 The big commander of the Third Army had 
 breakfasted well, his plans were working with 
 clock-like smoothness, and a lull had come in 
 his morning >s rush of reports and orders. He 
 was pleased to greet with gruff condescension 
 Frau and Fraulein von Kissel and Herr Thorpe, 
 all just escaped from France. To be sure, when 
 he found how little his callers had to tell about 
 conditions in France, his cordiality noticeably
 
 160 The Blond Beast 
 
 cooled. But his smile returned at Elsa's nai've 
 expression of thankfulness in the safety of his 
 protection and at Frau von Kissel's congratu- 
 lations over his appointment to the command of 
 the Saxon Army and the Imperial Guard. 
 
 " Ach, himmeli could I but have a chance 
 to show my strategy,** he rumbled from his out- 
 swelling chest. " The French are too simple. 
 Had not fool little Belgium chosen to commit 
 suicide, we should have jumped in at the French 
 side door while old Joffre blocked the front 
 between Verdun and Switzerland. Still better, 
 though, we now shall catch the red-legged rats 
 out of their holes, nicht? We struck at Liege, 
 but stopped our advance to the south. These two 
 weeks we have waited while the French have 
 rushed into the trap. Now Von Kluck is already 
 so far as Brussels. Billow swings after, on his 
 left wing. On my left, Wurttemberg and the 
 Crown Prince strike through the Ardennes, to 
 break in and cut off the French retreat. The nut- 
 crackers will close as I smash at the middle. 
 Another Sedan for all the Belgian and French 
 forces between Antwerp and the Aisne, before 
 the real Sedan Day of September the Fourth, 
 when we shall have wiped out the other French 
 armies and taken Paris.'* 
 
 " But, Herr General," ventured Thorpe, " how 
 about passing Namur and Maubeuge and Verdun 
 and the other great fortresses, if Liege held out 
 so long? " 
 
 The general smiled his contempt. 
 
 " Phuff! Those boxes will last two days, 
 maybe three, before our howitzers. I have said
 
 The Gray Torrent 161 
 
 we played fox at Liege we but marked time 
 while the French rushed north into our trap." 
 
 The big man heaved a sigh of regret : 
 
 " Ach, ach so simple too simple! I will 
 have no chance to display my strategy. First 
 North France and Belgium; then Paris and the 
 rest; after that the ramshackle, top-heavy Russ 
 army that will topple over and crumble at the 
 first blow. Then, last of all, that devil-fish octo- 
 pus England." 
 
 11 The British fleet? " suggested Thorpe. " It 
 balked even Napoleon." 
 
 " Why? The thieving shopkeeping schweine 
 stole the Danish fleet before Napoleon could seize 
 it. But we will add the French and Buss fleets 
 to our own, and swim the Channel. The con- 
 temptible little English army we will stamp into 
 the mire. Then shall Deutschland rule supreme. 
 Truly, as Bernhardi said, this war means world 
 dominion. ' ' 
 
 " Or downfall," Thorpe completed the quota- 
 tion. 
 
 The general's fist crashed upon his map- 
 strewn table. , 
 
 " Nein, neint The army of the Fatherland is 
 invincible absolutely invincible absolutely. A 
 short war we shall have short and joyous! " 
 
 "Your army is grand stupendous!" ex- 
 claimed Thorpe, with a tactfulness that was 
 backed by sincere conviction. He showed his 
 Red Cross armlets. " I presume that Lieutenant 
 von Kissel is with the Guards under your com- 
 mand, Herr General. May I be assigned to hos- 
 pital service in his regiment? "
 
 162 The Blond Beast 
 
 " You would serve? Good. Ach, now I see. 
 The tender blue eyes fire you to serve the Father- 
 land and keep watch upon the brother nichtf " 
 
 " Herr General is a good guesser. May I ask 
 the favor of a car to take the frau and fraulein 
 to the rear, with permission for them to see 
 Kurt in passing? " 
 
 " Go, fetch the son. I would see him myself. 
 I have not forgotten his suggestion of a lighter 
 pack, though Der Tag came too soon for the 
 change to be made. If he receives favorable 
 mention in the first fighting, I will detail him to 
 my personal staff." 
 
 In the midst of Frau von Kissel's effusive 
 thanks to the pompous general, Thorpe hastened 
 out with a written order in his hand. It won 
 him a car and a military chauffeur to whir on 
 eastward to the as yet unbroken bivouac of the 
 Prussian Guard. Once in the camp of that corps 
 d' elite of all the magnificent German armies, 
 inquiry sent the chauffeur speeding on a shoot up 
 a cross road to a small chateau where was estab- 
 lished the headquarters of Kurt's regiment. 
 
 Thorpe had handed over General von Hausen's 
 order to the chauffeur. Full of impetuous eager- 
 ness to find his friend, he now rushed in without 
 asking the man to accompany him. He darted 
 past the outer sentry before the slow-witted peas- 
 ant could interpose. Inside the courtyard a more 
 alert sentry brought him up short at the point of 
 a leveled bayonet. The man cried out. Other 
 guards came running to seize the civilian. 
 
 What followed seemed to Thorpe's bewildered 
 mind more the insensate, grotesque happenings
 
 The Gray Torrent 163 
 
 of a nightmare than logical reality. His attempts 
 to speak to explain were silenced by blows 
 on the mouth and menacing bayonet pricks. Bru- 
 tal hands jerked and } dragged him into a little 
 garden whose trampled flowers were strewn with 
 shattered wine bottles. Around a fine old mahog- 
 any table that had been tumbled out through the 
 smashed French windows on the chateau terrace, 
 a group of officers sat guzzling champagne and 
 roaring a discordant beer-song. The bullet- 
 riddled corpse of a Belgian gentleman, probably 
 the owner of the chateau, was lashed upright in a 
 chair at the head of the table, in cynical imitation 
 of the classical skeleton at the feast. 
 
 The sight of Thorpe in the grasp of the 
 guards brought a sudden ominous hush to the 
 drunken merriment. 
 
 11 Another franc-tireur! " yelled a lieutenant, 
 and he jerked out his service pistol. 
 
 " Engldnder schweirihund! " cursed a major. 
 
 " No Americanisch Americanisch ! " 
 gasped Thorpe, half choked by his captors. 
 
 " Silence the dog! " commanded a harsh voice, 
 and the tall figure of Captain von Pappheim 
 reared up at the far side of the bottle-heaped 
 table. ' ' The rascal is known to me. He fled from 
 Berlin to France with a spy woman. Go on with 
 your toasts, gentlemen. I will attend to him.'* 
 
 A dirty cloth had been whipped around over 
 Thorpe's mouth. He was wrenched about and 
 dragged back into the courtyard. Behind him he 
 heard a peal of hoarse laughter and shouts of 
 " Prosit! ' The orgy was under full way again. 
 
 Von Pappheim came around before the pris-
 
 164 The Blond Beast 
 
 oner, his legs perceptibly unsteady and his steel- 
 blue eyes reddened from drink. 
 
 " So the American fool also walked into the 
 trap! " he gloated. " Speak quickly, you swine 
 dog! Where is that copper-haired cocotte? " 
 
 At a sign from him, the men removed their 
 captive's gag. Thorpe gasped his smothered 
 lungs full of air, looked Von Pappheim squarely 
 in the eye, and answered with cool deliberation: 
 " I do not know any copper-haired cocotte." 
 
 " Liar! " shouted the Prussian. " Tell quickly! 
 That spy woman Carew where is she 1 ' ' 
 
 Thorpe's bruised lips quirked in a bantering 
 smile. " By now, Miss Carew should be well 
 on her way to Calais." 
 
 The drink-flushed face of Von Pappheim pur- 
 pled with chagrin. At his gesture the soldiers 
 thrust their prisoner against the outer wall of 
 the courtyard. For the second time in less than 
 a full day Thorpe found himself confronted by a 
 firing squad. 
 
 " Hold," commanded Von Pappheim. " Bul- 
 lets would be too easy for the spy pig. Cold 
 steel will make him squeal louder. Begin only 
 with a tickling." 
 
 Kurt von Kissel swung in through the gate- 
 way, beaming with joyful anticipation. At sight 
 of Thorpe, penned against the wall by the semi- 
 circle of soldiers he cried out in horror and 
 flung himself forward between his friend and the 
 thrusting bayonets. Von Pappheim 's eyes blazed 
 with malevolent fury. 
 
 " Aside! " he commanded. 
 
 The disciplined lieutenant obediently stepped
 
 The Gray Torrent 165 
 
 clear, but his voice shrilled a warning : ' * Beware, 
 Herr Captain. He is sent by General von 
 Hausen. ' ' 
 
 "A lie ! " scoffed the enraged captain. 
 
 " Messenger with an order, in a staff car," 
 insisted Kurt. " Ask the chauffeur." 
 
 He called through the gateway. Von Papphehn 
 stood scowling, so far gone in drink that he was 
 more than ready to force the execution and ask 
 questions afterwards. But the signature of the 
 High Commander on the order brought in by the 
 chauffeur sobered him even at the height of his 
 drunken rage. He dismissed the soldiers with a 
 curse, and staggered back into the desecrated 
 garden. 
 
 " Talk about barbarity! " muttered Thorpe, 
 his hand limp in Kurt's fervid clasp. " If this 
 is the way your army makes war ' ' 
 
 " How can you think it, Allan I " reproached 
 his friend. " You must have seen the captain's 
 condition too intoxicated to realize what he 
 was doing. But now you 're safe . . . Tell me ! The 
 mother and Elsa and my beloved Lucy? " 
 
 "All safe so far," answered Thorpe. "I 
 can talk better in the car. I want to get away 
 from here." 
 
 But the return drive to general headquarters 
 gave Thorpe scant time to answer all of Kurt's 
 eager inquiries. He skimmed over what had 
 happened to himself and Elsa and Frau von 
 Kissel, and then, despite an odd twinge of reluc- 
 tance that perplexed him, he told more fully 
 about Lucy's daring ventures. Kurt's rosy cheeks 
 went white.
 
 166 The Blond Beast 
 
 * * You let her stay, Allan stay with thos* 
 duped Frenchmen? " he cried. " You do not 
 know! They are all trapped. She'll be caught 
 in the very midst... Our big guns Frightful 
 accounts have come from Liege and Namur about 
 our high-explosive nine- and twelve-inch shells 
 . . . Great pits blasted out of the solid concrete 
 at every shot. Yet she I thought you my 
 friend! " 
 
 " Buck up," encouraged Thorpe, his own face 
 by no means smiling. " Trust the parley- vous to 
 keep her back out of range. Besides, the Bed 
 Cross is of course safe from rifle fire and shell- 
 ing hospitals, ambulances, and stretcher-bear- 
 ers luckily for me." 
 
 Kurt smiled in cheerful reaction from his 
 apprehensions. 
 
 " With our Kaiser and God, soon it shall be 
 ended. A short campaign and joyous ! We shall 
 win our just war for freedom and defense, and 
 then then Lucy need not fear to return. The 
 claws of the Fatherland *s envious foes will have 
 been clipped for all time, and we, like America, 
 will no longer have reason to suspect anyone of 
 spying." 
 
 " Hope so," put in Thorpe. " Well, here we 
 are No need to tell you how keen the mother 
 and Elsa are to see their soldier boy." 
 
 The general was busy again with his reports 
 and orders. The ladies had been escorted to a 
 secluded room, where they could embrace and 
 weep over Kurt without disturbing others or 
 being disturbed. A car was waiting to take the 
 party to the nearest railway station, with an
 
 The Gray Torrent 167 
 
 order from the High General for the ladies to 
 be given accommodations on one of the returning 
 munitions trains. 
 
 A train was on the point of leaving. There 
 was a final parting on the station platform, under 
 the eyes of the gaping trainmen and guards an 
 embrace of the tearful frau by Kurt, and of the 
 still more tearful Elsa by Thorpe then the 
 train rolled swiftly away towards the German 
 frontier. Thorpe gazed after it, heavy with 
 longing for the angelically sweet girl that it was 
 bearing away from him, yet vaguely relieved that 
 there would be no more tears to dampen his 
 shirt front. Elsa was the epitome of loveliness 
 he still thrilled from the delicious tenderness 
 of her parting embrace. But he had been born 
 and bred an American. He was not used to 
 public demonstrations of grief and love. 
 
 At Thorpe 's suggestion, the car was dismissed, 
 and the friends cut across country, afoot, for the 
 bivouac of Kurt's regiment
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE BEAST EAMPANT 
 
 The Imperial Prussian Guard, that largest and 
 most magnificent of all German corps, had got 
 under way in the wake of the Saxon army. Its 
 more than fifty thousand horse, foot and artillery 
 were moving forward in perfect order towards 
 the left, or Givet-Dinant, wing of General von 
 Hausen's van. His battle line extended from 
 the north tip of the French frontier spur, down 
 the Meuse to the already half destroyed Belgian 
 fortress of Namur. 
 
 When the hurrying friends overtook Kurt's 
 regiment, the young officer gave Thorpe a warm 
 introduction to a medical acquaintance. Quite 
 unintentionally, his wording of the bare facts 
 about the American volunteer left room for col- 
 orful inferences. The big surgeon-major actu- 
 ally paused in the eating of his pocket lunch of 
 sausage and champagne to wring Thorpe's hand. 
 
 " Ach! A protege of Herr General von Hau- 
 sen, a heart's friend of Herr Lieutenant von Kis- 
 sel, a representative of the great American people 
 who has proved the sympathy of his country 
 for the Fatherland by volunteering to give aid 
 most welcome is so high-minded a helper ! ' 
 
 Kurt dropped a hint that Thorpe, being a gen- 
 168
 
 The Beast Rampant 169 
 
 tleman volunteer, might properly be invited to 
 sit at officers' mess. No more was required to 
 establish Thorpe's social status. Decent treat- 
 ment even from Von Pappheim could be expected 
 after the spreading of the report that the Amer- 
 ican was a personal friend of the High Com- 
 mander. Kurt had not stated this as a fact. But 
 he made no attempt to correct the error of the 
 surgeon. Thorpe preserved a like golden silence. 
 He had no hankering for walls and firing squads, 
 and he remembered all too well the look of fury 
 and hate in Von Pappheim 's drink-reddened eyes. 
 
 For the time being, however, there was reason 
 to believe that the thoughts of the hatchet-faced 
 count were engrossed with other matters than his 
 enmity against the American. All members of 
 the Guard were as tense as leashed hounds that 
 have scented the blood-trail of the quarry. They 
 knew that their general's right wing had joined 
 Von Biilow in the bombardment of Namur. They 
 knew that south of them the army of the Grand 
 Duke of Wurttemberg was battling forward into 
 the French Ardennes. 
 
 And now, from the van of the Saxon columns 
 ahead, the field telephone had begun to call back 
 messages of a hot artillery and rifle engage- 
 ment with the enemy across the Meuse. The dis- 
 tant booming of the cannon that rolled back over 
 the wooded hills was accented by occasional 
 deeper roars from the great howitzers. 
 
 But the Guard were permitted no share in the 
 first day's furious skirmishes and efforts to force 
 a crossing of the river. To kill time there was 
 much roystering and pillaging and guzzling of
 
 170 The Blond Beast 
 
 wine from the chateaux and villas that had been 
 overlooked or only partly looted by the hurried 
 raiding parties of the Saxons. 
 
 During the afternoon Thorpe remained with his 
 ambulance section, and was so intent upon his 
 lessons in first-aid that he paid no heed to what 
 was happening around him. At nightfall, how- 
 ever, the ravaging of the invaders was forced 
 upon his attention. All over the country ahead, 
 pillars of flame-reddened smoke told of burning 
 villages, farm houses and chateaux. Like those 
 terrible war novels of Sienkiewicz, " Fire and 
 Sword " was preceding " The Deluge." 
 
 Kurt introduced Thorpe at officers' mess, which 
 was served upon carved rosewood tables in the 
 salon of a particularly artistic chateau. Every- 
 one except Von Pappheim greeted the volunteer 
 with suave cordiality. All were jubilant over the 
 most recent rumor: The United States had de- 
 clared war on Japan and was about to enter into 
 an alliance with Germany. Even Kurt fatu- 
 ously bolted the fantastic tale whole. Thorpe 
 masked his incredulity. 
 
 The officers acted like exultant madmen. Even 
 the higher ones had become intoxicated with 
 champagne and the still headier wine of the war 
 fever. Thorpe sat at table next to Kurt and 
 tried to look pleasant while his new messmates 
 shouted toasts and sang and guzzled amazing 
 quantities of wine. The careless Saxons had 
 overlooked five thousand bottles in the lower 
 cellars of the chateau. Before long, the younger 
 officers began to vaunt how the enemy civilians 
 were being pacified
 
 The Beast Rampant 171 
 
 Shots had been fired soldiers injured. What 
 matter if the miserable villagers howled and 
 prayed? What matter if they whined that the 
 soldiers had fired on each other by mistake, or 
 that French patrols had sought to harass the 
 advance? The cattle needed blood-letting. Mere 
 suspicion of resistance was good enough excuse 
 to shoot down the schweinhunds. Clean them 
 out, man, woman and child together, the foul pigs, 
 and burn their sties. Terrify the verdammt 
 franc-tireurs. 
 
 So should the enemy ahead be stricken with 
 panic. So should all Belgium and France be 
 paralyzed by frightfulness and unable to offer 
 resistance to the invincible armies of Deutsch- 
 land. Had not the High Command and the All- 
 Highest, Majestdt himself, declared that any 
 means of winning was justifiable; that ruthless- 
 ness was scientific and meant a short war; that 
 to suffer was uplifting, and to inflict suffering on 
 the enemy still more uplifting? " Hoch der 
 Kaiser! Deutschland, Deutschland iiber Alles! ' 
 
 For a time Von Pappheim kept a morose watch 
 on the American guest, who was barely touching 
 his wineglass to his lips at each toast. He at 
 last broke in on the drunken merriment to fix 
 the attention of all upon Thorpe with a query of 
 mock concern: 
 
 " Himmel! Our good Herr Volunteer does not 
 drink. Can it be that the wine is distasteful to 
 him, or is it the toasts ? ' ' 
 
 Thorpe stood up and raised his glass of spark- 
 ling champagne. In the sudden hush his voice 
 rang out clear and assured:
 
 172 The Blond Beast 
 
 " I am one of those creatures, most strange to 
 you a total abstainer. But I now offer to the 
 officers of Majestat this toast: Victory to the 
 heroes who fight in the defense of their beloved 
 country. ' ' 
 
 There was a great shout, and every glass in 
 the salon was emptied to the last drop. Every 
 wine-fuddled Prussian took the toast as a per- 
 sonal compliment. Even Von Pappheim mellowed 
 to half maudlin amity. Kurt alone might have 
 detected the audacious ambiguity of his friend's 
 words, but he also was too overcome with wine 
 for clear thinking. The war fever had broken 
 down his habitual abstemiousness. 
 
 The wild carousal now fast developed into a 
 drunken orgy. At the close of an obscene beer- 
 song Von Pappheim raised a shout: " Where are 
 the hostesses? Bring them in bring them in! 
 They should entertain their merry guests! " 
 
 At once a dozen maudlin voices caught up the 
 cry. Several of the waiter orderlies hurried out. 
 They rushed back, half -dragging, half-carrying in 
 their brutal grasp a slender little Belgian lady 
 and her daughter, a pretty petite black-eyed girl 
 of sixteen or seventeen. Both were white-faced 
 and wide-eyed with dread. They were greeted 
 with a babel of mocking compliments and felicita- 
 tions, above which rose Von Pappheim 's raucous 
 shout : 
 
 "Dance! Dance! Stand clear, you louts! 
 Make room for the frau and fraulein to dance for 
 their merry guests! " 
 
 The orderlies fell back from the taunted ladies, 
 kicking the parquetry floor clear of the broken
 
 The Beast Rampant 173 
 
 furniture, shattered dishes and empty champagne 
 bottles. One of them started a recent Italian 
 dance record on the half-broken cabinet gramo- 
 phone. An officer staggered over to sweep a row 
 of bottles from the keys of the grand piano. 
 
 1 1 Dance ! ' ' yelled the drink-frenzied carousers. 
 ' * Tarantella ! Tarantella ! ' ' 
 
 The frightened mother held out her arms to 
 them in piteous entreaty. 
 
 "Messieurs messieurs," she implored in 
 French, " spare us! In God's name, permit us 
 to return to the husband and father whom you 
 have killed without cause! Would you force us 
 to dance upon his gravel ' 
 
 Von Pappheim thrust back his chair and reeled 
 to his feet, face crimson, mouth skewed by a 
 cruel sneer, eyes fixed upon the young girl in a 
 leer that devoured her graceful form. His voice 
 rose above and dominated the cries of his more 
 drunken fellows. 
 
 " Not upon the grave not upon the grave! " 
 he howled down their clamor. " This is a festi- 
 val. Upon the table for the girl ! The doll shall 
 give us a table d'hote ballet, a ballet a la nude ! 
 Ach, charming fraulein make haste to disrobe, 
 and prance your pretty toes among our wine- 
 glasses, else I myself shall act as your maid." 
 
 Thorpe, stunned, stared around, expecting to 
 see the other officers frown their disgust and cry 
 out in protest. . .Those who were not sprawled 
 over their plates were grinning with delight. He 
 looked at Kurt. The young man's eyes were 
 glazed; his flaccid body had sagged low in his 
 chair. Even as Thorpe started an appeal, his
 
 174 The Blond Beast 
 
 friend slipped down and fell under the table 
 in a drunken stupor. 
 
 The backward darting glance of Thorpe showed 
 to him the slender little Belgian lady defiantly 
 erect, with her shamed and terrified daughter 
 clasped to her bosom. Over the dainty, down- 
 bent head of the girl her dark eyes flashed at 
 Von Pappheim with a scorn and loathing that had 
 risen above all fear. 
 
 "Hun!" she screamed " Blond Beast! I 
 shall die before I give you permission to touch 
 my pure child with your filthy paws! " 
 
 Von Pappheim 's Prussian-cut tow hair stood 
 up like the bristles on the back of a white boar. 
 
 " Die then, sow! " he growled. 
 
 His pistol was jerked out, aimed and fired with 
 machine-like rapidity. Mother aud daughter 
 went down together, still locked fast in each oth- 
 er T s arms. The steel-pointed mauser bullet had 
 pierced through the girl's slender neck into the 
 mother's heart. In the momentary hush that 
 followed the shattering report of the pistol, the 
 murderer's curse rang out venomously: 
 
 " Donnerwetter too low! A wine-shot, nicht? 
 I meant only to shoot the old sow and keep the 
 young one for pleasure You gawking louts, 
 heraus mit die schweine! " 
 
 As the orderlies sprang to clutch and drag out 
 the bodies, several officers drunkenly began to 
 quarrel with Von Pappheim for having robbed 
 them of their chance at the girl. 
 
 " Pfui! " he snarled back at them. " Only 
 one young pig! Plenty more pretty girls across 
 the Meuse, and oceans of wine. Here, you
 
 The Beast Rampant 175 
 
 goose-footed boors, champagne! more cham- 
 pagne! To leave a bottle unbroken would be a 
 crime. " 
 
 All caught up the cry. Some began a beer- 
 song. The orgy broke again into full swing, 
 as if nothing had occurred to jar on its coarse 
 hilarity. 
 
 Unheeded even by Von Pappheim, Thorpe left 
 his seat and groped his way out of the wine- 
 reeking, tobacco-fumed, blood-stained place of 
 infamy. He was nauseated stunned. He was 
 a-tremble with shudders of horror and loathing. 
 Never had he imagined that war could be so 
 maddening, so perverting of the good will of 
 men. And this was only a beginning! 
 
 His first impulse was to hand in his Red 
 Cross badges, ask for a pass, and make for 
 the rear. He must hasten to escape before being 
 swirled on into the midst of the hideous mael- 
 strom . . . Then came the thought of Lucy. She 
 could not so much as have dreamt she could 
 not possess the vaguest inkling of the hell-storm 
 that was about to burst across the Meuse. She 
 was there with the duped self-entrapped French. 
 What might not happen to her if she should be 
 overtaken and seized by the war-mad invaders? 
 
 No he could not run away or even wait 
 here for the battle-front to rip and hack and 
 burn its frightful way forward over the doomed 
 Belgians and French. He must advance as 
 rapidly as possible, prepared to attempt a rescue 
 of the willful girl if she were made prisoner, 
 as had been these unfortunate Belgian ladies. 
 Kurt probably would not be able to leave his
 
 176 The Blond Beast 
 
 regiment even to inquire about her. But a volun- 
 teer stretcher-bearer might not be so closely 
 attached to any one military unit. His services 
 would be welcomed wherever wounded Germans 
 were to be found. 
 
 The horror that he had witnessed made sleep 
 seem impossible, though the stretcher assigned 
 to his use in the ambulance was far more com- 
 fortable than most cots. His mind kept dwelling 
 on the sight of Von Pappheim with the half- 
 lowered pistol, and those two graceful forms 
 crumpled upon the salon floor like a fragile rose 
 and a half-open bud crushed down together under 
 the hoof of a wild boar. 
 
 The mother victim had spoken frightful truth 
 when in her brave scorn she branded Von Papp- 
 heim as the Blond Beast. Worst of all, the 
 murderous captain appeared to be no more than 
 a leader in the devil's play with which the 
 German army was harrying the helpless inhab- 
 itants of Belgium. The spirit of the Blond Beast, 
 of insane Nietzsche's monstrous Obermann 
 ruthless, ferocious, lustful had obsessed the 
 wine-inflamed invaders. 
 
 Thorpe realized all too clearly that it would 
 be useless to accuse Von Pappheim to General 
 von Hausen. From what he had seen, from 
 what Kurt had disclosed, from what the other 
 officers had vaunted of the widespread shooting 
 and stabbing and burning, he knew that in so 
 iron-disciplined a machine as the Germany army, 
 such outrages were not possible without the con- 
 nivance of the High Command. His first expla- 
 nation of the atrocities had been that they were
 
 The Beast Rampant 177 
 
 the consequence of looted wine cellars. Yet 
 what German officer or private would have dared 
 steal or injure a pfennig's worth of property or 
 lay hands upon a single civilian, without the 
 sanction of his superiors? And the All-Highest 
 was Majestdt. 
 
 The thought that the outrages were due to 
 cold-blooded deliberate war policy was doubly 
 dismaying to Thorpe. He was forced to realize 
 the almost non-existent chance of appeal from 
 the ferocious whims of the Blond Beast. His 
 own safety was of small concern to him. But 
 to stand any chance of helping Lucy, in the 
 event of her capture, he must mask his horror 
 and loathing. He must seek to make his own 
 position secure must be content to advance 
 himself in the esteem of Majestdt' s officers 
 against the day when he might need their 
 support.
 
 FIEE AND SWOED 
 
 At dawn command came for the advance. The 
 crossing of the Meuse had begun. Kurt's regi- 
 ment, most of whose officers were morose from 
 the after effects of champagne, marched forward 
 to join in the new attack on the French. Thorpe's 
 last view of the chateau, at sunrise, showed him 
 a squad of soldiers loading the carefully boxed 
 grand piano and gramophone into an army trans- 
 port. A married officer had " requisitioned " the 
 instruments to be shipped home by railway to 
 his family. 
 
 The regiment came down to the Meuse bank 
 south of where Lucy had brought over Thorpe 
 and Elsa and Frau von Kissel. 
 
 Half of Dinant was ablaze, or sending Tip 
 smoke from its German-fired dwellings and shops 
 and public buildings. One of the worst massacres 
 of the unfortunate inhabitants had taken place 
 in this southern suburb. While the Saxons were 
 laying pontoons to bridge the Meuse, French 
 troops had fired across the river. The Germans 
 claimed that the shooting was by Belgian franc- 
 tireurs. They had seized eighty or more of the 
 helpless townsfolk, shoved them against a wall, 
 and shot all together, men and women and 
 children. 
 
 178
 
 Fire and Sword 179 
 
 Before that, midway down through the town, 
 other families had been lined up along the river 
 front, as a screen for the Germans against the 
 French riflemen on the west bank. Others had 
 been murdered in batches and singly. A woman 
 left lying with a broken leg, had burned to death 
 when her home was set on fire by the Saxons. 
 And the butchery and burning and pillaging was 
 still continuing on this cruel morning after the 
 Sunday's orgy of fire and blood. 
 
 Thorpe's ambulance stopped some distance 
 back from the river. While the portly surgeon 
 re-dressed the arm of a wounded Saxon, the 
 big heavy-jowled brute told gloatingly of how 
 the franc-tireurs had been and still were being 
 executed. With his teeth clenched behind a 
 forced smile, Thorpe sought to close his ears 
 against the man's coarse details and the sight 
 of soldiers breaking into houses in the vicinity. 
 
 One of the pillaging bands appeared close at 
 hand. They smashed the windows and door of 
 a pretty little house near the ambulance, and 
 rushed in, yelling like fiends. Half a dozen of 
 them soon came out again, dragging a wounded 
 civilian and a woman who carried in her arms 
 a little girl of three or four years. 
 
 The soldiers stepped clear for elbow room to 
 use their barbarous saw-edged bayonets. The 
 man and woman fell upon their knees, praying 
 for mercy. Two of the lunging blades struck 
 the man in the face. The woman thrust the child 
 away to save it from the blades that plunged 
 into her bosom. One of them, in passing, gashed 
 the little girl's uplifted arm.
 
 180 The Blond Beast 
 
 Thorpe sprang from the ambulance and flashed 
 a desperate glance at the surgeon. 
 
 "The child she is hurt!" he choked out. 
 " Come! " 
 
 The portly doctor stared, and then suddenly 
 swung down to run after Thorpe. He was barely 
 in time to check a savage attack on the American 
 by the nearest of the blood-mad soldiers. Of the 
 others, one thin-faced young fellow was looking 
 over his shoulder at the little girl, with tears 
 rolling down his pale cheeks. The rest had 
 squatted beside the dying Belgian to loot his 
 pockets. 
 
 Thorpe had recoiled before the bloody bayonet 
 point of his assailant. The surgeon caught him 
 in a protecting clutch. 
 
 " Come back. You are a friend of Excellens. 
 You, in civilian clothes To interfere is dan- 
 gerous.'* 
 
 Unable to speak, lest he should curse Majestdt 
 and all his Super race, Thorpe pointed to the 
 little girl, who was clinging to the skirt of her 
 dead mother and whimpering with pain. 
 
 " Ach the child she is hurt," rumbled the 
 surgeon. He heaved a deep, sentimental sigh, 
 and spoke to the soldier. " The poor little one 
 suffers, and no one is left to care for it. Better 
 it should go with the father and mother 
 nichtf " 
 
 No direct order was needed. The soldier 
 grinned and swung around, with his bayonet 
 drawn back for lunging. Thorpe could bear to 
 see no more. But as he faced away he heard 
 a faint childish scream. He rushed back to the
 
 Fire and Sword 181 
 
 ambulance, his face drenched with cold sweat. 
 Only the thought of Lucy enabled him to keep 
 his rage and horror from bursting out. His 
 pallor deceived the surgeon, who patted him 
 reassuringly, and drew a uniform coat from a 
 locker in the ambulance. 
 
 " So so, mine friend, no wonder you shake. 
 That bayonet, it was a close shave, nichtf I 
 must make sure my Americanisch volunteer 
 comes not to an untimely end. All civilians 
 would seem to be suspected as spies or franc- 
 tireurs. You will put on this, my spare coat." 
 
 To don any part of the German uniform 
 seemed to Thorpe more than he could endure. 
 But the field-green coat bore the sacred emblem 
 of the Red Cross and there was Lucy to be 
 considered. He yielded to the surgeon's well- 
 meant insistence. Though the coat was ridicu- 
 lously full for him about the middle, it fitted 
 across his shoulders. He looked dubiously at 
 the insignia that denoted the rank of its owner 
 as a medical officer. 
 
 " Isn't this worse than nothing? " he inquired. 
 " They'll accuse me of having murdered you." 
 
 The portly surgeon pondered, shook his head, 
 and took out a fountain pen. The pass that 
 Thorpe received from him certified the American 
 to be a volunteer Eed Cross assistant, free to 
 come and go in his work as stretcher-bearer, and 
 entitled as a gentleman to the courtesy of all 
 officers. Thorpe very carefully fastened the cer- 
 tificate in an inside pocket. He could not afford 
 to take any chances. 
 
 Orders were at last received for the ambulance
 
 182 The Blond Beast 
 
 section to follow the regiment. All the smaller 
 cannon were now across the river. The instru- 
 ments of death had been given precedence over 
 the savers of life. As Thorpe's ambulance rolled 
 out on the army pontoon bridge, relief from 
 immediate contact with the bloody work in 
 Dinant enabled him to force his thoughts into 
 other channels. 
 
 As diversion from the maddening remembrance 
 of the little girl, he sought to locate the positions 
 of the German guns by their different notes. The 
 most monstrous of the gigantic field pieces 
 seemed to be still on the east side of the river, 
 hurling their nine- and twelve-inch shells from 
 behind screening knolls, high over the stream 
 and the hills beyond, at the now-distant French 
 lines. On the west bank the ugly misshapen 
 six-inch howitzers were roaring away at the same 
 living targets, with an almost continuous thunder 
 that drowned out the distant, lighter crashing of 
 the three-inch guns. 
 
 All about the nearer howitzers were to be seen 
 the proofs of their own and their mates * destruc- 
 tiveness. Great trees shattered or mowed down, 
 yawning raw pits in river bank and hill sides, 
 blasted houses all forewarned Thorpe of the 
 terribleness of modern shell fire. At that mo- 
 ment, thousands of soldiers were fighting in the 
 midst of such a storm of shrapnel and high- 
 explosive shells as had worked this devastation 
 before him. 
 
 Between the howitzers the Guard regiments 
 were hastening to the battle front to back up 
 the Saxon corps. Word had been received that
 
 Fire and Sword 183 
 
 the desperately fighting French troops, out- 
 numbered, out-generaled and out-gunned, were 
 being driven back. The men of the Guard 
 rushed forward, shouting and yelling songs of 
 victory, every one from general to private aflame 
 with fierce ardor to strike the shaken enemy. 
 
 Thorpe lacked the stimulating hot-blooded 
 enthusiasm of those who were to fight. Yet, to 
 his great surprise, he found himself quite with- 
 out fear. As he was borne forward towards the 
 battle he thought neither of his danger nor of 
 his deliciously sweet Elsa, to whom he might 
 never return for ahead of this on-sweeping 
 gray deluge of the invaders, somewhere before 
 or in the midst of the frightful tidal-wave of 
 death, was Lucy Carew, his countrywoman, his 
 dear old-time chum. 
 
 Precedence for right of way through the jam 
 of reserves and munition trains was given to 
 the guns and caissons. But Thorpe's ambulance 
 managed to dodge around a stalled six-inch 
 howitzer and crowd into line behind a battery of 
 three-inch pieces that was dashing forward at 
 full gallop. 
 
 The swift pace soon brought them within range 
 of the French seventy-fives. The screaming 
 three-inch shells began to whizz from over the 
 woods ahead, to burst all around. Out of the 
 white puffs pinged deadly shrapnel that killed 
 or wounded all creatures within its cone of dis- 
 persion and rattled on hard surfaces like hail- 
 stones. These messengers of death were inter- 
 spersed with high explosive shells that smashed 
 everything they struck. One of them fell
 
 184 The Blond Beast 
 
 between two teams of the guns before the 
 ambulance and blew the galloping horses into 
 fragments. 
 
 The car skidded as it swerved through the red 
 mess, around the abruptly stopped cannon. 
 Close ahead were other wrecks disabled guns, 
 exploded caissons, ghastly bits of men and horses. 
 The French had the exact range of the road and 
 were concentrating on it a fire intended to cut 
 off reserves and munitions from the German 
 front lines. The shelling had already so shat- 
 tered the advancing column and pitted the once- 
 perfect macadam roadway with shell-holes that 
 horse, foot and artillery were all alike swinging 
 out on either side to labor forward through the 
 grain fields. Signal Corps men were stringing a 
 new field telephone line on slender, jointed poles. 
 
 With startling abruptness the bombardment 
 ceased. The portly surgeon chuckled and pointed 
 skyward to where a great sparrow-hawk form 
 was soaring in vulturine circles. 
 
 " The taubes they are signalling the range 
 to our howitzers. Our bombardment is driving 
 the little French guns back. So it has been 
 from the start back, back, back go the red- 
 legged apes, their guns out-ranged by our lovely 
 Busy Berthas, and their infantry running before 
 our brave heroes." 
 
 Yet the French guns, even though driven back, 
 had not been silenced. The ambulance, dashing 
 past the half-stalled German guns and columns 
 of breathless infantrymen, quickly came up 
 behind the line of bursting shells that marked 
 the advanced German position. On the way
 
 Fire and Sword 185 
 
 Thorpe had seen only a few score of German 
 casualties in or near the road and a far less 
 number of dead French soldiers. But at this 
 point several hundred French had made a stub- 
 born stand in half-dug trenches. They had been 
 overwhelmed at a cost that staggered Thorpe 
 when he saw the windrows of dead and wounded 
 Germans. 
 
 The ambulance stopped, and a dressing station, 
 marked with Red Cross flags, was set up behind 
 the shattered wall of a shell-blasted farm house. 
 Thorpe's first share in a battle was more fear- 
 ful than if he had stood with a rifle in the 
 foremost ranks of the fighters. While ahead, 
 guns roared and shells burst in a ceaseless jar- 
 ring din, he hurried back and forth with his 
 German stretcher-bearer mate, bringing into the 
 dressing station the maimed and shattered 
 wrecks of humanity that littered the blood-soaked 
 ground. 
 
 Thorpe felt no little surprise when he noticed 
 the absence of any French wounded. The dead 
 wearers of blue and red almost equaled the 
 total German casualties of both dead and injured. 
 The frightful truth that the French wounded 
 had all been bayoneted did not occur to him at 
 the time. He supposed that the surviving French 
 troops had been able to retreat with all their 
 injured. There was little time for speculations 
 as he jogged from the dressing station and back 
 with case after case. 
 
 The small number of rifle wounds was another 
 thing that surprised Thorpe. Most of the injured 
 had been torn by shrapnel or shell fragments, or
 
 186 The Blond Beast 
 
 pierced by bayonets. Some died on the stretch- 
 ers, others on the operating table or after ampu- 
 tations. The dead were unceremoniously pitched 
 aside to make way for the living. 
 
 As the morning advanced the heat became 
 sweltering. Flies buzzed about the dressing sta- 
 tion. Back-drifting acrid powder fumes, smoke 
 from the smouldering farm house ruins, the odors 
 of sweat and blood, the shrieks and moans of 
 the injured all tended to sicken and unnerve 
 Thorpe. Yet he toiled on, braced by the example 
 of the surgeon. 
 
 Though brutal and callous in his talk, the 
 portly medical-major was proving himself quite 
 efficient for the task in hand. Bare-armed, 
 spattered with crimson, puffing and sweating, he 
 worked with machine-like precision, bandaging 
 and suturing, probing for bullets and shell frag- 
 ments, slashing off shattered limbs that required 
 immediate amputation. 
 
 " Ach! a pretty one you now bring me, Herr 
 Thorpe," he exclaimed over a corporal whose 
 head had been laid open by a piece of shell. 
 " Beautiful case of brain exposure. In Berlin 
 I could save him No time to waste here. Take 
 him off the table... Next case, quick. Eimmel! 
 No end of work all this cannon-fodder, and 
 more to come. Those French shells are the 
 devil . . . Hans, crumble up cheese in wine for me 
 to drink. I cannot stop to eat." 
 
 Towards noon the rush slackened. Thorpe 
 dropped panting on the cannon-jarred ground, 
 in the shade of a shell-scarred pear tree. His 
 stretcher-mate methodically opened the cowhide
 
 Fire and Sword 187 
 
 knapsacks of the nearest dead Germans until 
 he found two bottles of champagne. Thorpe dis- 
 covered that he was ravenously hungry. He 
 gorged on the " iron rations " of the dead men, 
 washing down the food with champagne. Though 
 tepid from the mid-day heat, the wine supple- 
 mented the food in reviving his strength and 
 clearing his mind of the daze into which it had 
 been shocked by the incessant cannonading and 
 contact with so much suffering. He hastened 
 to the dressing station, where the surgeon still 
 labored and sweated over the red work of mercy. 
 
 " May I go to the front? " he requested. " I 
 am anxious to see if all is right with my friend 
 Lieutenant von Kissel." 
 
 " Ja," panted the surgeon. " You have done 
 good work. Go. We will soon move forward to 
 a new station." 
 
 Thorpe promptly swung away up the wooded 
 slope where columns of reinforcements were rush- 
 ing to the front with the swift, skating route- 
 step of German infantrymen. From the fact that 
 the surf of bursting French shells had receded, 
 he surmised that the invaders had overwhelmed 
 or hurled back the defenders. He came to a 
 field telephone and followed the line at a jog 
 trot. On the way he caught up a dead German's 
 spiked helmet of lacquered leather. It fitted 
 well, was light, and made a good sunshade. His 
 own soft hat he crammed into a pocket of the 
 surgeon's coat. 
 
 The thin-wired slender-poled telephone line 
 led over a long rise, down across a hollow, and 
 up a higher undulation, or ridge, to a beautiful
 
 188 The Blond Beast 
 
 old Gothic church. Bed Cross flags proclaimed 
 it to be occupied as a hospital. But shattered 
 spires and gaping shell holes in the roof told 
 that the flag of mercy had not been respected by 
 the German artillery. Not so the French shells 
 that swept the ridge on either side. None were 
 bursting close to the church. 
 
 A group of mounted officers were peering at 
 the country beyond from behind a shell-tattered 
 hedge that bounded the ancient cemetery at the 
 right end of the church. From the number of 
 field telephone lines that led up to them Thorpe 
 guessed that he was approaching the temporary 
 field headquarters of the Guard commander. 
 He dropped the helmet, put on his own hat, and 
 advanced towards the cemetery. 
 
 While he was yet several yards away, a young 
 staff officer rode at him, sabre in hand, and 
 reined up across his path, to stare suspiciously 
 at his motley attire and arrogantly demand that 
 he account for himself. Thorpe showed the pass 
 given him by his surgeon, and explained that 
 the High Commander, General von Hausen, had 
 accepted his services as a volunteer. When he 
 added that he had permission to hunt up his 
 friend Lieutenant von Kissel, the young aristo- 
 crat unbent from his hauteur. 
 
 " Pardon for requesting you to go around 
 the other way, Herr Thorpe. The battle is now 
 at its height. Baron von Plattenberg is occu- 
 pied with reports and orders. At another time 
 he would be pleased to receive you as a friend 
 of the High Commander. Lieutenant von Kis- 
 sel's regiment has not yet gone into action. You
 
 Fire and Sword 189 
 
 will find it not far along the ridge to the left." 
 
 Thorpe nodded, and jogged off towards the far 
 end of the church. His view was screened by 
 foliage until he came around to the front corner 
 of the church. He emerged through the shat- 
 tered archway of a flying buttress into full view 
 of the battle that was outspread on the slope 
 of the hill and below on the wide stretch of 
 harvest fields and undulating woodlands. 
 
 Close in front of the church, beyond the portal, 
 stood a big motor car with polished copper-red 
 body. But Thorpe did not see it. His gaze was 
 following along the ridge crest to the left, where 
 an orchard was so planted that he could look 
 between the wide-spaced rows. 
 
 A little way down the open rear slope were 
 close-set batteries of German light guns, all in 
 full action. Before them, on the top and the 
 upper front incline of the ridge, many lines of 
 Germans stood shoulder to shoulder as if on 
 parade, masked from the French by the fruit 
 trees. Down at the foot of the slope other lines 
 crouched along the edge of the trampled wheat 
 fields. 
 
 No less furiously than the artillery, the regi- 
 ments of infantry were blazing away with rifles 
 and machine-guns at invisible marks somewhere 
 out in the midst of the uncut harvest. The 
 French guns undoubtedly were far back over 
 the next undulation; but Thorpe was astonished 
 at his inability to see the conspicuous horizon- 
 blue coats and red pantaloons of the French 
 troops out in the no less vivid contrasting golden 
 yellow of the grain. He could only wonder. To
 
 190 The Blond Beast 
 
 reflect or reason was impossible. The staccato 
 clatter of the machine-guns, the irregular yet 
 continuous bursts of rifle fire, the cannon con- 
 cussions, the crash of the French shells all 
 combined in a deafening, maddening, infernal 
 cacophony. Even more soul-shaking were the 
 horrible tearing siren screeches and thunderous 
 explosions of the six-, nine- and twelve-inch shells 
 which came hurtling over at the French from 
 miles behind the German front. 
 
 As Thorpe stood transfixed, staring down 
 aslant the ridge, one of the biggest shells struck 
 a farm house in the midst of the fields. The 
 detonation was so terrific that the solid brick 
 walls dissolved into an immense puffball of red 
 dust and smoke, out of whose up-shooting expanse 
 flared still higher a gush of flaming gases. On 
 the open ground others of the monstrous missiles 
 plunged deep into the soft earth and blasted 
 craters from seven to ten yards across. Dust 
 was hurled aloft hundreds of feet, along with 
 clouds of greasy black smoke as large as a city 
 block. 
 
 Thorpe marveled how any troops could with- 
 stand so awful a bombardment. That the French 
 batteries were affected soon appeared certain to 
 him. Their fire was rapidly slackening. This 
 must have been the moment for which the com- 
 mander of the Guard had been waiting. The 
 many lines of infantrymen on the upper part of 
 the ridge massed in close formation and heaved 
 forward down the slope with the slow but solid 
 momentum of a starting landslide.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 HELL 
 
 On the upper slope the dense yet orderly mass 
 of the Guard regiments was still more or less 
 screened from the French by the fruit trees. 
 
 First to burst into the open grain fields was 
 a detachment of hussars that spurred ahead of 
 the hidden left front of the invaders. Though 
 less than a quarter mile away, Thorpe could 
 not have seen the wild riders had they been 
 unmounted, so perfectly did the field gray of the 
 German uniform merge into the landscape. But 
 his eye was caught by the glitter of steel lance- 
 tips and the dark mass of the galloping horses. 
 
 The French had already sighted the charging 
 cavalry. Even as Thorpe looked, the air before 
 and above the hussars filled with twinkling 
 flashes, each followed by a white cottony puff 
 of smoke that told of a bursting shrapnel shell. 
 All the seemingly half-silenced batteries of 
 French seventy-fives appeared to be concentrat- 
 ing their fire on the horsemen. 
 
 The effect was frightful. A hail of deadly 
 shrapnel struck down men and horses by scores 
 and hundreds; high explosive shells blew them 
 into fragments. Before the charge could reach 
 the first French line, the flying mass of horse- 
 
 191
 
 192 The Blond Beast 
 
 v men was shattered, blasted, almost annihilated. 
 The few survivors broke and fled in utter rout. 
 
 But the seconds gained by the fatal charge 
 gave the massed infantry time to sweep down 
 out of the trees. They advanced into the open 
 fields at their swift, skating route-step, singing, 
 or rather, yelling their war songs. The destruc- 
 tion of the hussars had filled Thorpe with awed 
 wonderment over the terrific effectiveness of the 
 French shell-fire. He thought he now saw the 
 answer in this magnificent massed array of 
 bayonet-bristling Guards that surged forward 
 with the momentum of a tidal wave, shoulder to 
 shoulder, rank upon rank, regiment in perfect 
 line with regiment. 
 
 " The steam-roller! " he shouted, torn between 
 an irresistible wild exultation over the marvelous 
 living war-machine and dismay for the plucky 
 French, whom the juggernaut was about to smash 
 down and crush into the earth. " Good-bye, la 
 belle France! " 
 
 Above the near end of the German tidal wave, 
 against the dull blue of the powder-hazed sky, 
 flashed a lightning-star, instantly followed by 
 the cottony puff of the burst shell then other 
 white flash-stabs and puffs that increased with 
 frightful rapidity to a storm of shell fire. Before 
 the annihilation of the hussars Thorpe and the 
 Prussians alike had thought the French seventy- 
 fives half destroyed. Now it was seen that the 
 batteries had merely been shifting from the 
 positions spotted by the vulturine German aero- 
 planes. Their renewed shelling was far more 
 violent than any that had gone before.
 
 Hell 193 
 
 All along that forward-sweeping broad gray 
 mass of the Guards, sudden holes and gaps 
 began to appear. High explosive shells burst 
 in the midst of the dense ranks, rending and 
 maiming all around, or plunged into the ground 
 to belch up in a skyward eruption of smoke and 
 dirt and dismembered bodies. Less frightful in 
 appearance, yet still more effective, the scream- 
 ing, pinging shrapnel hailed down into the faces 
 of the attackers with deadly precision. Every 
 moment saw hundreds of Prussians fall, dead 
 or wounded. But the ranks closed up the gaps 
 as fast as they were torn open, and marched on 
 without the slightest faltering. The iron-disci- 
 plined military machine was going forward in 
 the face of destruction with more than machine- 
 like reliability. Every private, cogged to his 
 fellows by years of drilling, was an unthinking 
 automaton, blindly obedient to his superiors and 
 now doubly driven by a frenzy of fear and hate. 
 
 Thorpe vaguely became aware of a voice cry- 
 ing in his ear a woman's voice that quavered 
 with pity and horror : ' * Lan ! Lan ! Oh-h ! 
 God help them! God help them! " 
 
 He wrenched his dread-fascinated eyes away 
 from the slaughter. So close at his side that 
 her shuddering shoulder pressed against his 
 elbow, stood a girlish figure in white linen dress 
 and white coif marked over the forehead with 
 the emblem of the Red Cross. 
 
 ' ' Lucy ! " he cried. 
 
 His arm clutched about her shoulders. He 
 swung his body around between her and the 
 battle.
 
 194 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Go back quick! " he shouted above the 
 infernal din. " If one of those damnable shells 
 should come this way! " 
 
 A wave of rose flooded into her white cheeks. 
 The compassion-drooped corners of her lips 
 curved upwards. Her lovely eyes, darkened 
 and dilated with horror, relaxed from their fixed 
 stare and softened into a glow of tender warmth. 
 
 * ' Oh, Lan, you were afraid for me ! You came 
 back... " 
 
 * ' You you ought to be spanked ! " he scolded 
 * ' staying here in this fighting Good God ! 
 Those shells Come away! If one should fly 
 across here! " 
 
 Hot scorn flashed from the girl's eyes. 
 
 " No fear of that. Trust the base, degenerate 
 French to shoot wide of us. It's only the noble 
 German Supermen who bombard hospitals. 
 Look! " 
 
 She pointed to the jagged hole in the red- 
 stained bosom of her nurse's costume. 
 
 " The shell that crashed through the rose win- 
 dow and burst midway of the nave killed several 
 of our wounded and struck down Sister Cecile. 
 This was her dying gift to me. The helpers are 
 all too few. Wearing her dress, I could not 
 desert even if I wished." 
 
 Thorpe shuddered. He had turned his head 
 to stare down at the massive Prussian battle 
 line, now at the edge of the grain fields. Its 
 dense ranks had perceptibly thinned. Behind 
 them, all the slope was littered with dead and 
 wounded. Yet they still drove forward, un- 
 checked, at the same swift, sliding march step.
 
 HeU 195 
 
 In their furious eagerness to close with their 
 enemies the battle-maddened men were yelling 
 like view hounds. Out of the woods on the far 
 side of the church, other regiments of infantry 
 and several bodies of cavalry had streamed into 
 the fields to strike across at the French flank. 
 
 " Cannon - fodder more cannon - fodder! " 
 groaned Thorpe. 
 
 But the remembrance of his friend down in 
 that hell of flying lead and steel goaded him 
 back to self-control. 
 
 " Loo, I'm also in the service. The surgeon 
 loaned me his coat. If you're quite sure you're 
 safe here Kurt is there, with his regiment." 
 
 Lucy clutched at his arm. " No, Lan! no! 
 You're not you cannot go! You're not one 
 of their soldiers! " 
 
 Thorpe stared. " I thought you cared for 
 him. . .Besides, he's my friend." 
 
 The girl stepped back and burst into a shrill 
 peal of hysterical laughter. 
 
 1 * Yes, yes your friend and Elsa 's brother ! 
 Go . . . No, no ! come back ! I didn 't mean it ! 
 Oh, Lan, dear Lan! You'll be killed! I can't 
 bear it! Come back! " 
 
 But Thorpe was already sprinting down the 
 slope, deafened to her screams by the thunderous 
 clashing uproar of the guns. The frightfully 
 punished yet steadily advancing gray billow of 
 infantry was extending its right end to connect 
 with the obliquely charging regiments of the 
 Guard Corps' right wing. Thorpe ran straight 
 down the road from the church towards the point 
 where he thought the Prussian battle line would
 
 196 The Blond Beast 
 
 be linked together for the concerted onslaught. 
 
 Until near the foot of the incline the road 
 was well off to the side of that ghastly spread 
 of wrecked humanity that littered the wake of 
 the gray battle wave. As Thorpe ran down 
 it he glimpsed, over the heads of the Guards, a 
 ragged row of black dots that vanished almost 
 as soon as seen. The attackers had flushed the 
 first line of their enemies. Maddened by their 
 fearful losses, all they needed to infuriate them 
 beyond restraint was a single look at the dark 
 faces and mustard-colored tunics of the sol- 
 diers who leaped up out of the yellow grain and 
 fled. In a twinkling their shell-mangled yet still 
 rigid ranks plunged forward and dissolved into 
 a raging, rushing mob . . . Over and above them 
 still burst the hell-storm of the French seventy- 
 fives, only partly checked by the far more 
 spectacular but blindly aimed bombardment of 
 the heavier German shells. 
 
 Midway down to the fields Thorpe abruptly 
 veered to the left, athwart the death-struck path 
 of the Guards. He dashed along the slope, leap- 
 ing over the dead and dodging around the 
 wounded, many of whom cried out to him or held 
 up beseeching arms. At last he saw men who 
 bore the insignia of Kurt 's regiment. He checked 
 his headlong rush and began to dart from 
 wounded man to wounded man, giving first-aid 
 to those who could not help themselves and 
 shouting inquiries for Kurt. 
 
 Within a few moments he came upon a mor- 
 tally injured sergeant, who gasped that Herr 
 Lieutenant von Kissel had been ahead of him.
 
 Hell 197 
 
 Thorpe eased the position of the dying man, and 
 bounded away, to zigzag down the blood-path 
 of Kurt's company and the companies that had 
 marched before and behind it. At first the 
 search was simple. If Kurt had been struck 
 down, there was no chance of missing him, unless 
 his body had been blown to bits or mangled 
 beyond recognition, as were all too many of the 
 red grist of cannon-fodder. 
 
 But out on the flat-trampled shell-pitted grain 
 fields the end of the main attacking force had 
 stretched to the right to link with the supporting 
 wing. Thorpe could not tell whether Kurt's com- 
 pany had taken part in this flank movement. 
 He dashed straight ahead, leaping the shell holes 
 of the French seventy-fives. Deaf to the piteous 
 cries of the wounded and to the big howitzer 
 shells that flew close overhead, preceded by their 
 hideous fiendish screeches, he sprinted after the 
 frenzied mob that was still charging on towards 
 the hidden French. 
 
 Out past the middle of the first field he brought 
 up barely in time on the rim of a yawning pit, 
 the crater of a twelve-inch shell. At the bottom 
 were lying several dead soldiers, for the most 
 part Prussians. The rest were swarthy faced 
 men in mustard-colored tunics, baggy trousers 
 and fezzes. In a flash Thorpe understood why 
 he had been unable to see the French. The forces 
 opposing the Guard were French Colonial troops, 
 Moroccans or Algerians. Even from a distance 
 of a few yards their uniforms must have been 
 invisible in the midst of the ripe yellow grain. 
 
 A sudden new note in the roar and clash and
 
 198 The Blond Beast 
 
 clamor ahead hrought Thorpe's gaze up out of 
 the pit. Other than off on the far right flank 
 the French batteries had abruptly ceased their 
 terrific fire. Yet the Prussian battle wave was 
 no longer surging forward. It seemed to have 
 dashed against a solid reef. Its already shell- 
 riddled formless mass was more than checked. 
 Instead of driving on over the obstruction, it 
 was beginning to ebb back. In the thick of the 
 gray swirl appeared dots and streaks and patches 
 of mustard yellow. 
 
 At the astounding sight Thorpe's mouth gaped 
 half open and thereby saved his eardrums. 
 An unusually vicious, zipping, rending shell- 
 screech ended in the tremendous thud of a huge 
 projectile a little way behind him. The impact 
 crumbled the loose dirt under his feet, and the 
 air gust of the shell toppled him forward. In 
 the same instant a stupendous cataclysm, that 
 was at the same time earthquake, cyclone and 
 volcanic eruption, shattered the whole universe 
 back into Primal Chaos . . . 
 
 Dimly and as it were through the Night of 
 Ages, Thorpe groped his way out of the black- 
 ness to the garish light of hell. All about the 
 rim of his particular hell-hole, fiends were howl- 
 ing and shrieking, blaspheming and tearing each 
 other to pieces in a devilish saturnalia. Satan 
 himself tall, eagle-nosed, malignant-eyed, fiery- 
 faced, head covered with the whitish flames of 
 brimstone was wielding a bar of lightning... 
 
 Thorpe tried to move, and found himself help- 
 less. The shock of the terrific explosion that had 
 flung him down into the shell hole atop the dead
 
 Hell 199 
 
 Prussians and Algerians, seemed also to have 
 paralyzed him. But the daze that obscured his 
 mind and his eyes was fast clearing. Satan 
 transformed himself into the unhelmeted, sweat- 
 ing, disheveled figure of Count von Pappheim. 
 He was beating the backs of his retreating sol- 
 diers with the flat of his sword. Thorpe did 
 not wonder that the Prussians had been hurled 
 back and were still giving ground. The Algerians 
 were flinging themselves at their enemies like 
 mad dervishes, eager to die fighting. The play 
 of their knives and bayonets was appalling. 
 
 Von Pappheim 's squad would have been put 
 to rout and slaughtered like sheep had he not 
 interlarded his sword pounding with bursts of 
 coolly aimed pistol shots. Yet for all the deadly 
 precision with which he struck down the swarthy 
 assailants, others came charging from the front 
 and side like enraged panthers. 
 
 On the opposite side of the shell crater the 
 half demoralized Guards had already been driven 
 back. Thorpe glanced again at Von Pappheim. 
 The captain had bent over to reload his auto- 
 matic. A flurried private jerked his gun back 
 to shorten it for a bayonet thmst at the Turco 
 who was stabbing a sergeant close before him. 
 The butt struck the front of Von Pappheim 's 
 helmetless head. He dropped like a steer under 
 the sledge. A moment later his lax body was 
 under the feet of the charging Turco s. 
 
 Unbraced by the fall of their officer, the Prus- 
 sians reeled rearwards beyond the constricted 
 limit of Thorpe's vision. Madly the battle- 
 crazed Turcos pressed forward. But then a
 
 200 The Blond Beast 
 
 clear-toned rallying cry rolled out above the 
 yells of the victors: 
 
 " Vorwdrts! vorwdrts! Hurrah! ' 
 
 Forward again into the scope of Thorpe's 
 vision spumed a rush of frenzied Guards, whose 
 impact hurled back the Turcos and drove a dent 
 several yards deep into their ranks. At the head 
 of the counter-charge Kurt von Kissel was fight- 
 ing the fierce Algerians with a cool-headed valor 
 and skill that more than offset their fury. He 
 parried their slashing knives and stabbing bay- 
 onets with his sword and struck back with the 
 deadly thrusts of a born fencer, while in the 
 brief moments between combats his service pistol 
 dropped Turco after Turco. 
 
 At sight of his friend Elsa's brother fight- 
 ing so valiantly against odds, something within 
 Thorpe seemed to snap. The paralysis of shell 
 shock that had benumbed his motor nerves and 
 held him helpless gave way before a tremendous 
 impulse of will and desire. He bounded to his 
 feet and scrambled up the side of the pit. 
 
 Two of the men in the rear rank of Kurt's 
 platoon were lifting the half revived Von Papp- 
 heim. Thorpe caught hold of the captain-count 
 and sent the men jumping to meet the flank 
 attack of the Turcos who had rushed around 
 from the far side of the shell crater. While he 
 supported the tottering officer, the platoon fought 
 its way back to the general line of retreat.
 
 SWORD AGAINST CROSS 
 
 Though reeling and continually beaten back 
 all along the line by the fury of the Turcos, the 
 iron discipline of the Guards saved them from 
 rout. They fought as they retreated, and every 
 break in their ranks was closed by a quick 
 rally. Along the rear, officers shot down with 
 their pistols the few skulkers who attempted 
 flight. 
 
 For a hundred paces or more Thorpe hurried 
 his staggering half-dazed charge back clear of 
 the fighting. The rapid movement must have 
 cleared Von Pappheim 's head. He stared angrily 
 at his rescuer, thrust himself free, and faced 
 about to rejoin the line. Left empty handed, 
 Thorpe first made certain that Kurt was now 
 behind the front ranks and so fairly safe. He 
 then swung up on his shoulder a boyish young 
 Prussian from among the helpless wounded, over 
 whom the combatants were about to trample. 
 
 After the cessation in the fire of the French 
 seventy-fives, when the Algerians counter- 
 charged, they had burst out again in a hot 
 shelling that sought to locate and silence the 
 German three-inch guns. The latter, seconded 
 by the distant howitzers, returned the compli- 
 
 201
 
 202 The Blond Beast 
 
 ment. Neither side could shell the enemy infantry 
 without danger of injuring its own. From the 
 moment the bayonet wielders interlocked, they 
 had been left to fight out their deadly struggle 
 with cold steel. But as Thorpe plodded up 
 the slope to the old church with his burden, he 
 saw machine-gun squads hidden behind coppices. 
 A change was toward. 
 
 With radiant relief beaming in her green eyes, 
 Lucy ran out to meet Thorpe and steady his 
 tottering steps as he bore the wounded boy into 
 the church. Coming straight from the battle-hell 
 of hate and strife, what Thorpe saw under the 
 shell-riddled roof of the House of God seemed 
 a miracle. His own portly German surgeon- 
 major was toiling side by side with a slender 
 little French surgeon and several Sisters of 
 Charity. They were straightening out the jumbre 
 of Prussian casualties that hurried ambulance 
 men had dumped and still were dumping helter- 
 skelter among the rows of French wounded on 
 the straw-strewn floor of the church. The whole 
 interior reeked with the sickening dank odors 
 of sweat and fresh blood and disinfectants. A 
 black-robed Belgian priest was distributing quan- 
 tities of medicines from beside the altar. Above 
 him the bandage-hung image of Our Lady of 
 Sorrows gazed down with pensive compassion 
 upon the slashed and mangled victims. 
 
 But now the shrieks within the extemporized 
 hospital were drowned in the ferocious clamor 
 of the up-driving battle line. Above the heavy 
 booming thunder of the bombardment rose the 
 piercing yells of the Turcos, the deeper shouts
 
 Sword Against Cross 203 
 
 of the Germans, the clash of steel on steel. Then, 
 suddenly, above all else, crashed the snappy, 
 clacking rattle of machine-guns. 
 
 As Thorpe hurried to the portal Lucy darted 
 ahead of him and barred his exit with out- 
 stretched entreating arms. Over her white-clad 
 head he saw the Prussians still backing up the 
 slope. The moment their ranks had cleared the 
 machine-guns, an enfilading fire had been opened 
 on the Turcos, the gunners pouring their torrents 
 of bullets straight down the lines, regardless of 
 out-jutting bends and wedges of their own 
 soldiers. 
 
 The fusillade stopped as abruptly as it had 
 burst out. Turcos had rushed the machine-gun 
 squads. Though the brief cross-fire had been 
 very deadly, the fierce Algerians who survived 
 bounded over the silenced machine-guns and flung 
 themselves at their foes even more furiously 
 than before. 
 
 " Les Nesses! les blesses! " cried a voice at 
 Thorpe's shoulder, and the French surgeon 
 sprang forward to tug at one of the ponderous 
 iron-studded doors. 
 
 Thorpe hastened to close the other door. He 
 had no need of explanations. The fighters of 
 both sides must be barred out of the hospital. 
 The church was now doubly a sanctuary. As 
 the massive doors clanged shut, and their heavy 
 iron bolts shot into the sockets, Lucy hastened 
 to help the French surgeon bind up the shell- 
 smashed shoulder of the young German brought 
 in by Thorpe. 
 
 Though the fierce clash and clamor outside
 
 204 The Blond Beast 
 
 was half muffled by the thick doors, it told that 
 the furious wave of fighters was surging up 
 around the church. Thorpe picked his way over 
 a row of wounded men to a pediment from which 
 he could peer out through one of the high slit 
 windows. The Turcos, though still inferior in 
 numbers to their enemies, were continuing to 
 drive back the superbly trained men of Majestat 's 
 corps d' elite everywhere within Thorpe's range 
 of vision. 
 
 Without machine-guns or cavalry or infantry 
 reserves, and helped little against their imme- 
 diate opponents by the shells of the seventy- 
 fives, the Algerians out-fought and out-gamed 
 the blond manhood of the " Super race." They 
 were led, not driven, by their French officers. 
 Clear up over the round of the slope, past the 
 church, and through the orchard, almost down to 
 the German batteries, the brave French Colonials 
 prodded back their enemies with bayonet and 
 knife. In more than one place the Prussians 
 were beginning to break into utter rout. 
 
 But then a mass of reinforcements, all the 
 Guard reserve, was hurled forward at the 
 attackers. Through the tattered breaking line 
 of their own defeated van charged regiment after 
 regiment, furious to avenge the bitter disgrace 
 of the Guard's retreat. 
 
 The Turcos, already half exhausted by the 
 tremendous task they had accomplished, gave 
 back before this fresh gray flood of enemies. 
 Here and there deep salients were driven into 
 their thin lines by the impact of solid charging 
 columns. Yet they fought as terrifically in their
 
 Sword Against Cross 205 
 
 retreat as in the advance. At the points where 
 the Prussians threatened to break through, com- 
 panies stood fast ( and fought till the last man 
 was killed. 
 
 By the time they had been pushed down the 
 slope and out into the midst of the trodden fields, 
 the bloody price exacted by them had begun to 
 dull the fighting edge of the Prussians. The 
 original positions of the French troops were still 
 being bombarded by the far-away howitzers. In 
 the face of their own shell fire the Germans began 
 to slacken and halt their advance. 
 
 The Algerians disengaged and fell back, the 
 tattered remnants of their battalions for the most 
 part in good order. At once the French shells 
 ranged down into the front of the Prussians. 
 Instead of rushing on again after the retreat- 
 ing Turcos, the Guards hastily fell to digging 
 trenches. Technically they had won the battle. 
 But it was a Pyrrhic victory. The cost had been 
 staggering, so vastly greater were their losses 
 than those of their opponents. 
 
 When the tide of steel and blood had ebbed 
 back again below the old church, the bolted doors 
 had at once been flung open for stretcher-bearers 
 to hasten out. As the Prussian ambulance men 
 gave heed only to their own wounded, Thorpe and 
 the priest turned their attention to the others. 
 They first brought in the Turcos who had fallen 
 close before the church. One was huddled in the 
 blood-stained tonneau of Lucy's car. 
 
 Three or four others, in search of a refuge, 
 had dragged themselves through the shattered 
 archway of the flying buttress. Thorpe and the
 
 206 The Blond Beast 
 
 priest lifted upon their litter the one who seemed 
 most in need of immediate surgical aid. As they 
 swung out and around the corner of the church 
 with the stoically silent sufferer, a half company 
 of Guards in scattered line advanced into view 
 past the far corner. They were methodically 
 bayoneting the wounded Turcos and searching 
 them for money and ornaments. 
 
 At the near end walked Kurt, his girlish cheeks 
 white and his head downbent in shame. Von 
 Pappheim was midway out along the line, direct- 
 ing the work with much gusto. The red dazzle 
 of the sunrays on the side of Lucy's car fixed 
 his avidly roving gaze. He came striding 
 towards it, with an eagerness that told he had 
 recognized its unique copper-colored body. 
 
 His harsh command for the men to follow 
 forced the attention of Kurt, who looked up and 
 perceived first the car and then Thorpe. But a 
 guttural order from Von Pappheim checked him 
 as he started to run to his friend. 
 
 " Quick quick! " Thorpe urged the priest. 
 " In with our blesse en avawtl pronto! ' 
 
 His cassocked bearer-mate was already break- 
 ing into a jog. They came to the portal. In 
 another moment they would have swung into the 
 deep entrance. Von Pappheim, already beside 
 Kurt, snatched the automatic pistol from the 
 lieutenant's holster and fired three shots in rapid 
 succession. The priest, who was directly in line 
 before Thorpe, fell prone on his face, dropping 
 the front of the litter with a suddenness that 
 pitched Thorpe over and down on top the 
 wounded Turco.
 
 Sword Against Cross 207 
 
 He rolled clear and sprang to his feet. Kurt, 
 hurrying forward beside Von Pappheim, struck 
 up the out-thrust pistol. The bullet whistled 
 close over Thorpe's head. The astounded cap- 
 tain glared at his inferior and thrust the pistol 
 muzzle against his breast. 
 
 " Mutiny! " he snarled. 
 
 Kurt clicked his heels together and saluted, 
 steady-eyed. 
 
 " No, Herr Captain not mutiny. He is of 
 ours. He helped save you from the Turcos." 
 
 Even the Blond Beast Superman is not always 
 perfect in his practise of ruthlessness. Von 
 Pappheim was silenced and checked, at least for 
 the moment, by the reminder of his debt to the 
 hated American. Yet it was not in his arrogant, 
 domineering Prussian nature to give way with 
 good grace. 
 
 " Your sword," he demanded. 
 
 Kurt offered scabbard and all. Von Papp- 
 heim jerked out the blade, and, backed by the 
 battle-drunk soldiers, turned to confront Thorpe. 
 
 " You have been aiding the filthy black 
 swine, 7 ' he accused. 
 
 Thorpe silently pointed to the Eed Cross on 
 the sleeve of his surgeon's coat. 
 
 11 Verdammend to that fetish! " cursed the 
 captain. " The French degenerates have dis- 
 graced civilization by bringing these barbarians 
 to trample on German kuMur. You shall see 
 how we treat the filth. You are in our service. 
 I command you to take this pistol and shoot 
 the black devil." 
 
 " You are mistaken," rejoined Thorpe. " I
 
 208 The Blond Beast 
 
 am a neutral and in the service of the Bed 
 Cross alone therefore not subject to your 
 commands. I shall appeal to my friend General 
 von Hausen." 
 
 Von Pappheim lowered the menacing pistol. 
 The training of his ilk was to bully inferiors 
 and cringe at the displeasure of his superiors. 
 The mere mention of the High Commander's 
 name was enough to turn the pistol away from 
 the American. But the wounded Turco could 
 not claim an acquaintance with Excellent. Von 
 Pappheim kicked the helpless man in the face, 
 and signed to the nearest soldier. 
 
 " Kaput/' he commanded. 
 
 Quickly as the grinning Prussian brandished 
 his bayonet to pin the "black swine" to the 
 earth, Thorpe managed to swing around into 
 the portal before the blow fell. As he entered 
 the church Von Pappheim shouldered violently 
 past him, with Kurt's sword and pistol held 
 ready for an attack. The sudden change from 
 the sun glare into the semi-gloom of the church 
 brought him to a blinking halt. The blood- 
 maddened soldiers came crowding in behind, 
 itching for another Turco massacre. 
 
 Kurt edged around to breathe a whisper in 
 Thorpe's ear: " Lucy. . .where. ..?" 
 
 Before Thorpe could reply the girl hastened 
 forward with the slender little French surgeon 
 to meet the intruders. Kurt was beside her 
 even sooner than Thorpe. Von Pappheim smiled 
 gloatingly, and the next moment scowled at 
 the surgeon. 
 
 " Scoundrel! Someone fired from here," he
 
 Sword Against Cross 209 
 
 accused. " Our high-born General, Baron von 
 Plattenberg, has been killed. You murdered 
 him, you goat-whiskered assassin." 
 
 " But but, monsieur MonDieu! but listen 
 consider ' ' gasped the amazed Frenchman. 
 " We have no weapons here. There are only 
 the blesses, the Sisters of Mercy, myself, 
 and" 
 
 ' ' Himmel! Chattering ape ! That for say- 
 ing a Prussian officer lies! " 
 
 The upraised sword slashed down across the 
 base of the surgeon's neck. Lucy caught the 
 backward falling body and bent over it to 
 ward off a second stroke. Von Pappheim 
 stepped back, smiling with cynical satisfaction. 
 He knew there was no need for another blow. 
 Lucy also saw the tragic truth. At the Jeering 
 laugh of the slayer she straightened up before 
 him, her eyes aflame with scorn and loathing. 
 
 ' * You brave, noble hero ! ' ' she scoffed 
 " To murder an unarmed man who was help- 
 ing your own soldiers! " 
 
 Von Pappheim went scarlet. He jerked the 
 sword at his waiting men. 
 
 " Squad to guard this spy- woman and her 
 fellow Americanisch spy; also Von Kissel, 
 charged with mutiny. No harm to the girl. 
 She is my property. The other women are 
 yours to take. They have been gouging the 
 eyes of our beloved comrades Hold ! First fin- 
 ish off and throw out all of the black swine." 
 
 So far the breakers of sanctuary had not 
 made themselves heard above the cries and 
 groans of the many wounded. But now the
 
 210 The Blond Beast 
 
 carved Gothic walls and pillars reverberated 
 with the yells of the soldiers as they rushed for- 
 ward to bayonet the helpless French wounded. 
 With the bloodthirsty shouts of the butchers 
 mingled the screams of the nurses, the shrieks 
 of white French blesses for mercy and the 
 howls of the Turco and Prussian injured. All 
 were so intermingled, and so many shrapnel 
 and bayonet torn faces were masked with ban- 
 dages, that friend and foe alike were trampled 
 and jabbed in the blood-fury of the slayers. 
 
 From the altar, which he had been using as 
 an operating table, the portly German surgeon 
 came lumbering into the shambles, his fat face 
 purple with rage. 
 
 " Her aits! " he bellowed. " 'Raus, you blun- 
 dering fools! Out with you, blockheads! num- 
 skulls! Goose-step, you ganders! I will have 
 you shot court-martialed! 'Raus/" 
 
 Before that roar of angered authority, the 
 murderers not only ceased their bloody work 
 but cringed back like ferocious curs under the 
 lash of their master. Von Pappheim shoul- 
 dered his way forward through their midst, his 
 steel-blue eyes glaring with cold malevolence. 
 
 " Beware how you interfere with military 
 orders, Herr Doctor," he threatened. " I myself 
 gave command to clean out the black filth." 
 
 "'Raus, 'raus out with you all!" bel- 
 lowed the surgeon, not a whit intimidated. 
 * ' My hospital I command here ! Look to 
 your bungling work, Herr Captain Furioso. 
 Your mad cattle have trampled and gored our 
 own injured. Such foolishness! "
 
 Sword Against Cross 211 
 
 " But all these swinish enemy- women, goug- 
 ing eyes " began Von Pappheim. 
 
 The surgeon cut short the black slander 
 
 11 Pfui! that silly bosh! Heraus, else I 
 demand a court-martial on you. . .All those 
 thousands lying out on the battle field! Every 
 nurse means scores of lives saved for the 
 Fatherland arms saved to shoot... And that 
 little French medic Where is my little French 
 medic. ' ' 
 
 Von Pappheim shook his sword in the sur- 
 geon's face. 
 
 " The hairy ape tasted that. You may taste 
 the same. Already have you given me grounds 
 for a challenge." 
 
 "Bah!" jeered the surgeon. "A perfect 
 suture-fastener and for you to go and kill 
 him when he is so needed. You bungler ! Chal- 
 lenge ja, ja, challenge. For weapon I will 
 use a needle-squirt full of porridge. With it 
 I shall fill the empty hole inside your skull . . . 
 Ach! how fine it will sound to the high com- 
 mand when I make report. Herr Captain, 
 Count Wolf von Pappheim, killing my assistant 
 and taking my women nurses for his men's 
 pleasure, when thousands of good cannon-fodder 
 die for lack of binding up." 
 
 Even Von Pappheim 's arrogance could not 
 withstand such satire, backed by the threat of 
 accusation to the High Command. 
 
 " There shall be no need to make report, 
 Herr Doctor," he replied in what was meant 
 for a conciliatory tone. "If I struck over- 
 hastily, I had good excuse. The little French
 
 212 The Blond Beast 
 
 poisoner was insolent. As offset to his loss, 
 my men shall clean out all this black trash 
 for you. The order has come to give no 
 quarter. Operations of troops are not to be 
 hampered by the guarding of prisoners. With 
 these dirty savages flung out, there will be 
 more room for our brave wounded. Also, I 
 give you leave to keep your women nurses 
 except that one with green eyes and copper 
 hair. She is a spy confessed." 
 
 " That is a bold-faced lie, Doctor," inter- 
 jected Thorpe. " I ask you to safeguard us 
 to General von Hausen." 
 
 " Later later. Now shall you stay here to 
 help," answered the surgeon. He glared again 
 at Von Pappheim and pointed towards the door. 
 " I will cut off the arms and legs of all the 
 Turcos, if I choose, but I want no help from 
 bunglers. Heraus! You, also, ganders. Set 
 free my nurse and stretcher-bearer. ' ' Raus 
 'roust* 
 
 Von Pappheim had met his match, and knew 
 it. He stalked out, muttering a command to 
 release the spies. Abjectly eager to appease 
 all the angry officers, the stupid soldiers set 
 free their lieutenant along with the Americans.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 FORESTALLED 
 
 Before the last of the butchers had crowded 
 out through the doorway Kurt sprang to clasp 
 Lucy's hands and press them fervently against 
 his lips. 
 
 "Miss Carew liebe fraulein! " he cried. 
 " Thank God! thank God! you are safe! " 
 
 She drew her hands free and turned her 
 pallid face away from him. Her dilated eyes 
 fixed themselves upon the tortured forms of 
 the doubly wounded men writhing among the 
 sprawled bodies of those who had been slaugh- 
 tered outright. 
 
 The surgeon was already heading back up 
 the nave through the midst of the shambles, 
 reassuring the terror-stricken nurses with his 
 bellowed commands. All fell to again with 
 redoubled zeal at their labor of mercy. The 
 stretcher-bearers, who had been blocked out- 
 side during the massacre, hurried in with more 
 German casualties. They were promptly set 
 to work flinging out the dead. 
 
 A shudder broke the spell of horror that 
 had fallen upon Lucy. One of her wrists was 
 bruised and numbed by the iron grip of the 
 soldier who had held her prisoner. She flexed 
 
 213
 
 214 The Blond Beast 
 
 it to make sure the hand could be used. When 
 she looked up, her lips had regained a trace 
 of color and were no longer quivering. She 
 turned her compassion-darkened eyes to Thorpe, 
 looking past Kurt as if he were invisible. 
 
 " We stand here, Lan yet the shrieks of 
 those beasts' victims! " 
 
 She started towards a big, coarse-featured 
 Prussian who was crying for his mother with 
 the piteous wail of an injured, frightened child. 
 Kurt caught her arm. 
 
 " Wait wait! " he urged. 
 
 Unable to draw herself free, she stood silent, 
 icily disdainful. 
 
 " Let her go," interposed Thorpe. " You 
 should know how she feels all this . . . Later 
 on, perhaps " 
 
 " No, at once! " exclaimed Kurt. " She 
 you both you must come at once. If Von 
 Pappheim is first to reach the High Com- 
 mander ! ' > 
 
 " What! You think he Come along, Loo! " 
 ordered Thorpe. 
 
 He jerked Lucy away from Kurt and flung 
 an arm about her shoulders to force her to 
 the door. But at his touch her frozen rigidity 
 gave way. If she did not go willingly, she 
 at least made no resistance. Kurt, darting 
 out ahead, shouted his relief that Von Papp- 
 heim had not made off with her car. 
 
 Battles were still raging between forces of 
 the defenders and the invaders. But none 
 sounded near at hand. The cannonading had 
 dulled to a deep pounding roar like distant
 
 ForestaUed 215 
 
 thunder. Out beyond the middle of the fields 
 a few French shells were falling short of the 
 newly dug Prussian trenches. Evidently the 
 batteries of seventy-fives had drawn back, along 
 with the tattered regiments of Turcos. A soli- 
 tary howitzer shell screeched high overhead, like 
 a fallen angel hurtling from heaven to hell. 
 But all the light batteries and all the torn 
 regiments of the Guard in the vicinity were 
 inactive. True, they had defeated the enemy 
 and now held possession of the battlefield. No 
 less true, they had been so smashed by the 
 seventy-fives and so mauled by the Turco pan- 
 thers that none among them had any stomach 
 left for fighting. 
 
 Thorpe stopped short with Lucy inside the 
 church portal. The last of Von Pappheim's 
 bloody crew were just disappearing through the 
 broken archway of the flying buttress. The 
 moment the last man passed from sight Thorpe 
 hurried Lucy to her car. 
 
 A vain attempt, probably by Von Pappheim, 
 had been made to start the engine. Kurt 
 was staring in dismay at a flat rear tire that 
 had been punctured by a bayonet, either during 
 the fight, or wantonly by one of Von Papp- 
 heim's party. Lucy gave no heed to it until 
 she had thrust her key into the magneto lock 
 and tested the self-starter. The engine began 
 to purr. She shut it off and faced Thorpe. 
 
 " Nothing broken. Open the tool-box, Lan." 
 
 "With feverish haste both Thorpe and Kurt 
 set about jacking up the car and changing to 
 the spare tire. Lucy came back and glanced
 
 216 The Blond Beast 
 
 over into the tonneau. In the hospital she 
 had spent long hours, helping with unfaltering 
 steadiness to bind up wounds of the most 
 ghastly character. Yet now the mere sight of 
 the darkening crimson stains on the tonneau 
 cushions utterly unnerved her. She sank down 
 upon the running board, faint and dizzy. Kurt 
 thrust out his arms to support her. Thorpe 
 brusquely shoved him aside. 
 
 " Hold on. This isn't playing the game, 
 Loo," he rallied, and he sprang the old quip, 
 " Cheer up; the worst is yet to come." 
 
 1 1 That that stain on my cushions ! ' ' 
 she gasped. 
 
 Thorpe swung her up bodily into the clean 
 front seat, whipped the dust robe over the rear 
 seat, and flung dirt on the floor of the tonneau. 
 With the eager assistance of Kurt, he then 
 completed the change of tires in utmost haste. 
 Lucy moved over into the driver's seat. 
 
 " With me," she directed Thorpe. 
 
 Kurt drew himself stiffly erect, his boyish 
 face white. 
 
 11 Miss Carew, how I have offended you I 
 cannot tell. Yet whatever the cause of your 
 displeasure, I must beg leave to go with you 
 and Allan. Your safety is above all else." 
 
 Lucy's cold gaze glowed into the heat of 
 scornful reproach. 
 
 "I do not wish to be unjust to you, Mr. 
 von Kissel. But this this hideousness. . .Oh! 
 if the very awfulness of it did not make it 
 seem unreal, I'd go mad!. . .Those soldier beasts 
 Von Pappheim! That little French doctor
 
 Forestalled 217 
 
 so considerate so gentle and kind to all! " 
 
 The young Prussian's blue eyes purpled with 
 anguish. 
 
 " If I could give my own life to bring him 
 back ! . . . War is horrible horrible ! Our men 
 are maddened men and officers. We are in 
 an enemy country. All the civilians fire on 
 us they have goaded our army into a frenzy. 
 The franc-tireurs * ' 
 
 ' ' Dinant ! ' ' broke in Thorpe. ' * You saw, 
 there at Dinant! Are little children franc- 
 tireurs? And here, after victory, wounded sol- 
 diers stabbed to death in hospital! " 
 
 A spasm of agony distorted Kurt's face. 
 
 " God forgive us! One wrong heaped on 
 another such deeds to follow the wrong of 
 invading Belgium, admitted by our chancellor! 
 Yet it is for the Fatherland . . . Foes all around ! 
 A man surrounded by assassins cannot look 
 where all his blows fall. We fight for the 
 Fatherland, for liberty, for existence." 
 
 " Your Crown Prince boasted that he would 
 plunge into a war of conquest." 
 
 11 But not Majestdt not our noble peace- 
 loving All-Highest! " cried Kurt. "If I thought 
 this such a war I would pray to die. Only the 
 loftiest aims can excuse such frightfulness. But 
 the struggle was forced upon us. You must 
 believe it ! ... In secret I have wept for the suf- 
 ferings of those miserable misguided Belgians. 
 I could weep tears of blood! " 
 
 Lucy's eyes misted over as she saw the young 
 man's head sag forward, chin on breast. 
 
 "I'm not sure, but I believe I can now think
 
 218 The Blond Beast 
 
 of you apart from that Von Pappheim and 
 the others, ' * she murmured. ' ' You may 
 oome, if you wish." 
 
 Without lifting his bowed head, Kurt entered 
 the blood-stained tonneau. 
 
 Under the girl's skillful guidance the big car 
 began to weave its way between the bodies that 
 strewed the ground. No one seemed to know 
 anything definite about the battle or the loca- 
 tion of Von Hausen's headquarters. After wan- 
 dering about at random, Lucy hit upon the 
 scheme of following staff cars. Three lured 
 her off towards the booming battle front. The 
 fourth, in which Kurt recognized one of Von 
 Hausen's personal aides, was traveling the other 
 way. As Lucy swung around to pursue it she 
 gave a little cry, stopped the car, and sagged 
 over against Thorpe's shoulder. The pain of 
 a strained tendon in the wrist bruised by the 
 soldier's brutal grip had become excruciating. 
 Thorpe unceremoniously lifted her over the back 
 of the seat into Kurt's arms, and grasped the 
 steering-wheel. 
 
 The car leaped into high. The staff car was 
 making over fifty miles an hour. Thorpe came 
 up on it so rapidly that he was only a hundred 
 yards in the rear when the gray racer slowed 
 to make a turn. Regiments of Saxon reserves 
 were marching down the main road to the 
 front as the two cars went spinning along 
 with almost unvarying speed. Dusk had almost 
 set in when the gray car stopped at the cha- 
 teau that served as headquarters for the Third 
 Army.
 
 Forestalled 219 
 
 Thorpe had called back instructions to his 
 passengers. Lucy replaced her Red Cross coif. 
 When her car came to a stop behind its leader, 
 Thorpe and Kurt sprang out to hand her from 
 the tonneau with an exaggerated deference cal- 
 culated to impress all onlookers. Though the 
 twilight was fading, the splendor of Lucy's 
 car was still clearly discernible. Her torn and 
 crimson-stained Red Cross costume lent a touch 
 of mystery to the proceeding. 
 
 The aide had paused in the entrance to see 
 who had presumed to pursue him. Kurt drew 
 Thorpe towards him and saluted. 
 
 " Captain, I am Lieutenant Kurt von Kissel, 
 not unknown to Excellent. I have the honor 
 to introduce Herr Thorpe, the American gen- 
 tleman whose services as volunteer were per- 
 sonally accepted by the High Commander. 
 To-day Herr Thorpe has saved my captain from 
 the bayonets of the charging Turcos." 
 
 The aide mellowed, and bowed pleasantly to 
 Thorpe, who modestly accepted the imputation 
 of heroism. Kurt struck while the iron was 
 hot 
 
 "When Excellent is at leisure, Herr Thorpe 
 desires to pay his compliments in person and 
 introduce a lady who also has been of great 
 service." 
 
 " You are the Von Kissel of whom Excellent 
 has spoken, nichtl " said the aide. He peered 
 closer at Lucy's beautiful eyes, twirled his 
 waxed mustache, and bowed gallantly. " The 
 most charming fraulein is welcome and Herr 
 Thorpe. Follow."
 
 220 The Blond Beast 
 
 With such an escort, the visitors had slight 
 difficulty in passing the sentries. As the cha- 
 teau housed the High Commander, it had as 
 yet been only partly pillaged. In the salon a 
 pair of young aides were amusing themselves 
 by shooting each other's image in the mag- 
 nificent mirrors. The captain ordered them out, 
 bowed Lucy to a chair, and withdrew, smiling. 
 
 The minutes of waiting dragged. In the 
 deepening dusk Kurt began to pace the salon. 
 Thorpe sat still beside Lucy, but a cold sweat 
 moistened his forehead. Much time had been 
 lost in the race from the hospital. What if 
 Von Pappheim had arrived before them and 
 gained the general's ear? 
 
 An orderly came to light the cut-glass chan- 
 deliers. Another quarter hour of anxious wait- 
 ing. A disquieting memory flashed into Thorpe 's 
 consciousness. 
 
 "Kurt!" he exclaimed "That dodge of 
 ours at Chalons over the verboten film what 
 did Papp do about it? " 
 
 The young officer's tense face relaxed in a 
 half smile. 
 
 " He does not know. I jumped aboard the 
 wrong train, as it was moving. He missed 
 it. At home mobilization was under way. I 
 was given a special detail. I did not join my 
 regiment on the Ourthe until the advance began. 
 Since then all this upset and fighting. He has 
 not yet questioned me." 
 
 Thorpe nodded. " That is well. If asked, you 
 will tell only that you were unable to make 
 off with the film."
 
 Forestalled 221 
 
 " But a lie to save myself? I I cannot, 
 dear friend." 
 
 1 ' Not a lie the literal truth, Kurt. Your 
 moral nature prevented you from taking the 
 film. But you are not bound to tell why you 
 were unable to commit the theft. Leave the 
 details to me. Promise." 
 
 As the irresolute young man hesitated, the 
 aide entered briskly, bowed low to Lucy, and 
 offered her his arm. 
 
 " Good fortune, fraulein," he congratulated. 
 " Excellent has dined early and is in the best 
 of humors. Everywhere we have smashed back 
 the enemy. Namur is ours Dinant Char- 
 leroi. The little English army has been swept 
 south from Mons, and already Von Kluck has 
 it surrounded. ' ' 
 
 " Victory! " cried Kurt. "A short war 
 nichtf " 
 
 The aide's beaming smile vanished. Lucy had 
 turned from him with cool hauteur, to take 
 Thorpe's arm. But the aide was a German 
 Ach! To so refuse the escort of a staff cap- 
 tain, the fraulein must be a Highness. Defer- 
 ence, not gallantry, was in order. 
 
 With the air of a court chamberlain, the aide 
 led the visitors through a long suite of rooms 
 and down a corridor to another suite in the 
 far wing. He ushered them into a map-hung 
 ante-chamber, and went forward to open the 
 door in the opposite wall. 
 
 Through the opening came the strident voice 
 of Von Pappheim.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 PAWNS IN THE GAME 
 
 Both Thorpe and Kurt turned dismayed 
 looks upon Lucy. She gazed up inquiringly 
 at Thorpe. 
 
 " Kurt spoke of your saving the count? " 
 
 " He himself drove back the Turcos. I merely 
 helped Papp to the rear." 
 
 " All the better. Trump the knave." 
 
 The aide had announced the callers. A 
 morose voice boomed through the doorway 
 " Herein! " 
 
 Thorpe placed Lucy's hand on Kurt's arm, 
 and led the way. Excellent was sagged down 
 in an easy chair, puffing away at a long-stemmed 
 meerschaum. On a tray at his elbow stood 
 a full stein of champagne. One of his uplifted 
 spurred boots was roweling the piano finish of 
 a hand-carved rosewood table, the far side of 
 which was heaped with food-messed silverware 
 and eggshell china half covered by the back- 
 flung wine-stained damask cloth. From the far 
 end of the table Von Pappheim watched the 
 entrance of Lucy with a cruel smile. 
 
 Seemingly oblivious to herr general's scowl, 
 Thorpe advanced with a show of suave defer- 
 ence. It was no time to stickle over non- 
 essentials. He could imagine all too vividly 
 
 222
 
 Pawns in the Game 223 
 
 what would he Lucy's fate if Von Pappheim 
 had his way. 
 
 " Congratulations, Excellent! " he exclaimed. 
 " I hear that we have won all along the line. 
 But what else could be expected with you in 
 command? " 
 
 The frown of the High Commander began 
 to relax. Von Pappheim put in a hasty stroke. 
 
 1 ' Excellent, that is the spy-woman that 
 she-wolf in sheep's clothing." 
 
 Lucy bowed to him with mock graciousness. 
 
 " What a gallant compliment from noble Cap- 
 tain Furioso ! Yet it rather differs from those 
 he paid me before I gave him the basket." 
 
 Von Pappheim *s twitching mustache tushes 
 betrayed that the neat counter-thrust had pierced 
 to the quick. General von Hausen scrunched 
 his spurred heel off the table and set up to 
 glower at the impertinent nurse. 
 
 " Eimmel! You dare come before me, you 
 foreign spy-woman, and flout an officer of my 
 army? " 
 
 Kurt stepped before Lucy, his whole body 
 quivering with the intensity of his emotion. 
 
 11 Excellent, I beg leave to speak for Miss 
 Carew. She saved the mother and Elsa 
 brought them safe out of France after war 
 was declared." 
 
 Again the general's frown relaxed. 
 
 " So? Your good mother spoke highly of 
 the fraulein. Yet for her to turn back before 
 our lines that looks not so well. You would 
 wed her. You are prejudiced in her favor, 
 mchtf"
 
 224 The Blond Beast 
 
 " May not Captain von Pappheim be no less 
 prejudiced against her, Excellenz? From the 
 first he knew of the innocent indiscretion com- 
 mitted by Miss Carew, upon which he now bases 
 his charge of espionage. She herself told him 
 the whole truth, and he made light of the mat- 
 ter until after he failed to win her hand." 
 
 Von Pappheim met the general's look of 
 inquiry with a cynical smile. 
 
 " Excellenz knows my connection with the 
 secret service. There is no discredit in making 
 love to win the confidence of a spy-woman. I 
 made light of her crime until I could get pos- 
 session of full proofs." 
 
 " Pardon me, General," interposed Thorpe, 
 as Kurt stood speechless before this adroit 
 move. " Pardon me, but I wish to inform you 
 that this noble count detective is what in 
 America we would term a fourflusher and an 
 ingrate. In the first place, he has not a particle 
 of proof against Miss Carew not even suffi- 
 cient evidence to condemn her before a drum- 
 head court-martial. As for " 
 
 The general held up a hand for silence, and 
 again looked inquiringly at the accused. Von 
 Pappheim was no longer smiling. He frowned 
 at Kurt. 
 
 " The verboten film you delivered it as 
 ordered? " 
 
 Kurt clicked his heels together and saluted. 
 " I have to report that I was unable to bring 
 away the alleged verboten film." 
 
 " So you failed the Fatherland," gibed Von 
 Pappheim. He cast a significant look at the
 
 Pawns in the Game 225 
 
 lowering general. " Excellent, you have heard. 
 Far worse than I feared. You see her devilish 
 beauty. She has corrupted him." 
 
 " Just a moment, General," Thorpe thrust in. 
 " Do not listen seriously to this fourflusher's 
 bluff. Isn't it noble of him to stand there 
 seeking the life of a lady who has been saving 
 your wounded soldiers, and accusing of treason 
 the officer whose heroism has to-day saved his 
 life!" 
 
 Von Pappheim flushed crimson. " The woman 
 was in a pretended hospital, cutting out the 
 tongues of our wounded gouging their eyes " 
 
 " Enough," broke in the general. " Such 
 talk is only for use to keep the soldiers keen 
 and for foreign consumption." 
 
 " Oh, the herr count has a witness, General," 
 rallied Thorpe. " My surgeon-major was pres- 
 ent all the time, watching Miss Carew do the 
 eye-gouging. Incidentally, he saw the herr count 
 turn his men loose upon the patients in such 
 manner that several wounded Guards were 
 bayoneted. ' ' 
 
 Von Pappheim, stung beyond discretion, 
 flashed out the sword that hung at his belt. 
 Thorpe faced him, inwardly quaking, outwardly 
 unflinching and contemptuous. During the long 
 moment that the astounded general sat speech- 
 less, the upraised weapon was to Thorpe a 
 veritable sword of Damocles. Had he made 
 the slightest movement or uttered a single word, 
 the blade would have flashed down upon him. 
 
 The general's gaping mouth snapped shut, 
 to yaw wide in a roar of offended dignity:
 
 226 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Down! Back, you Prussian! You forget I 
 am here. Sheathe your sword! " 
 
 The voice of Authority sent Von Pappheim 
 backward, and brought down his sword arm, 
 though he still was so enraged that he could 
 not speak. Thorpe thrust again 
 
 " Would it not be gracious, Excellent, for 
 the noble count to return the sword to its 
 owner? He borrowed it to kill a French sur- 
 geon, who, like Miss Carew, was busy saving 
 your soldiers. His own sword he lost when 
 he fell under the feet of the Turcos." 
 
 " Donnerwetter! " rumbled the general. 
 " What fool's tale is this? " 
 
 " Mine," claimed Thorpe. " I was fool 
 enough to follow at the rear of the Guard's 
 great charge. When the Turcos countered, 
 Captain von Pappheim was struck down and 
 over-run by the enemy. Lieutenant von Kissel 
 led a rally that saved him. No man has ever 
 done a braver deed. All the Guard line was 
 giving back before the fearful rush of the Tur- 
 cos. Yet my friend here smashed a hole through 
 the mad dervishes, leading a long pace in front 
 of his men." 
 
 Kurt blushed like a girl. " I could not per- 
 mit my captain to be taken, Excellent. Besides, 
 it was Herr Thorpe who ran in and supported 
 the captain until we regained the line." 
 
 " So so, boy. This begins to have a dif- 
 ferent look," muttered the general. He raised 
 his lowering gaze to Von Pappheim. " Shall 
 witnesses be called? The Iron Cross cannot be 
 given without clear proof."
 
 Pawns in the Game 227 
 
 Von Pappheim started as if lashed across the 
 face, bowed stiffly, and replied: "I do not 
 deny the rescue; though how I was struck 
 down, unless by a treacherous blow from 
 behind" 
 
 A meaning glance towards Thorpe completed 
 the sentence. Thorpe smiled. 
 
 11 The noble count runs true to form. As 
 it happens, however, the blow was from the 
 front the backward jerk of a gun butt as 
 herr captain bent to reload his pistol. The 
 bump still shows at the upper edge of his 
 forehead. ' ' 
 
 General von Hausen stared, pondered, took 
 a puff at his neglected pipe, and asked with 
 explosive suddenness: " The tale of bayonet- 
 ing our casualties in the hospital, Herr Count 
 you would call the surgeon to disprove, 
 nichtf " 
 
 ' ' My men, Excellenz, were still hot from fight- 
 ing. A few mistakes may have been made. As 
 for the French ape-doctor, he was insolent." 
 
 Lucy's pent-up scorn flared 
 
 " That is a deliberate, malicious lie, Count 
 von Pappheim! You know it... And here are 
 Mr. Thorpe and Mr. von Kissel to prove it. 
 You accused the little doctor of assassination. 
 He protested his innocence. But before he 
 could tell that your own surgeon was there, 
 you murdered him! " 
 
 Von Pappheim gave back a step before the 
 impact of this passionate charge. 
 
 "So so. The fraulein also is a good 
 fencer," rumbled the general, a frosty twinkle
 
 228 The Blond Beast 
 
 in his cold eyes. " The accused strike back 
 at you, Captain. Perhaps not alone your men 
 may have made a few mistakes.. . .Your proof 
 that the fraulein is a spy! I would now make 
 examination. ' ' 
 
 Crimson with chagrin, Von Pappheim pointed 
 a shaking finger at Kurt. " He has confessed 
 his failure to secure the verboten film, as 
 ordered. ' ' 
 
 " Achl And you choose for the mission a 
 boy untrained in secret service work. Enough. 
 No more of your little mistakes. Report your- 
 self to your regiment. Lieutenant von Kissel 
 will join my staff until further orders. Keep 
 his sword. After the use to which you have 
 put it, he will prefer another. A blunder is 
 worse than a crime. To kill a surgeon who 
 was saving our good cannon-fodder pfui! 
 Heraus! " 
 
 Von Pappheim, his face like a death mask, 
 saluted and stalked out as if on parade. Before 
 he was through the doorway, Thorpe was bow- 
 ing to the general. 
 
 " Excellent, permit me the honor of present- 
 ing to you my countrywoman, Fraulein Carew, 
 a lady of wealth and high position, an inti- 
 mate friend of the Von Kissels, and by His 
 Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince, named 
 the American Princess." 
 
 " The prince has an eye for pretty women," 
 disapproved the general. " And this stained 
 dress it does not become a princess. 
 
 Lucy made no attempt to be gracious. Her 
 green eyes met the frown of the High Com-
 
 Pawns in the Game 229 
 
 mander with the hauteur of a princess in spirit 
 if not a princess by birth. This rude, domineer- 
 ing man was one of the " higher ups " who had 
 at least permitted, if they had not ordered, 
 the killing of civilians and wounded soldiers. 
 He had censured Von Pappheim, not for the 
 crime of murdering the little French doctor, 
 but for the blunder of destroying a man who 
 could have saved more of his cannon-fodder. 
 
 11 My dress would honor a queen," she re- 
 joined. " I am vastly more proud of it than 
 of the gown I wore at the fete where I met the 
 Crown Prince. It was willed to me by a Sis- 
 ter of Mercy, who was killed when your guns 
 shelled our Red Cross hospital." 
 
 The general peered soberly at the jagged hole 
 in the bosom of the dress, to which Lucy was 
 pointing. 
 
 11 For nursing it should be mended and 
 washed," he reproved. " Now, speak straight 
 and quickly. What is all this about verboten 
 pictures? " 
 
 " If I may be permitted to explain " began 
 Thorpe. 
 
 " Be silent. The fraulein has a tongue." 
 
 " It is this way, if you must know," said 
 Lucy. " In America we never see spies except 
 in the movies and melodramas. They're just 
 a stage property. I came to Germany expecting 
 to be treated with the courtesy and trust we 
 show to tourists from your country. For years 
 everyone has been free to take photos of every- 
 thing in America." 
 
 The High Commander nodded satirically.
 
 230 The Blond Beast 
 
 t 
 
 ' * Ja ja, everything forts and all. ' ' 
 
 " So I saw no reason why I shouldn't take 
 a roll of snapshots at Essen. When I reached 
 Berlin, two Prussian detectives tried to scare 
 me into giving up the film. I substituted 
 another, and slipped the one they wanted into 
 the dispatch-pouch of the American ambassa- 
 dor. I know now this was all very silly, but 
 I thought it a good joke to dupe those stupid 
 detectives. Had they been decent about it 
 even half-way polite I'd willingly have given 
 up the film. But for them to come at me as 
 if I were a criminal ! . . . I always have abomi- 
 nated bullying. " 
 
 The general puffed at his pipe, pondered, 
 and remarked in a tone of fatherly mildness: 
 " You will give the verboten film to me, and 
 all will be blown over nichtf " 
 
 " I wish I could, sir; only, you see, it is " 
 the girl paused a moment at Thorpe's nudge, 
 but went on again in her candid manner "it 
 is in France. " 
 
 The High Commander bristled into sudden 
 irascibility 
 
 " In France? So Von Pappheim was right. 
 You have confessed it. You are a spy-woman. 
 I will have you court-martialed. This Herr 
 Thorpe he is an accomplice, as Von Papp- 
 heim charges." 
 
 Lucy checked Kurt's horrified protest with a 
 gesture, and faced the general, quiet and dis- 
 dainful. 
 
 11 Can't you call in Baron Munchausen to cor- 
 roborate the herr count? He would make a
 
 Pawns in the Game 231 
 
 more plausible witness at the court-martial." 
 
 " Do not trifle with me," sternly admonished 
 the general. " Women spies are shot, as well 
 as men." 
 
 " You will do no such thing! " cried Lucy. 
 " It's all a silly bungle, this making a moun- 
 tain out of a molehill. You scolded the herr 
 count for blundering. How about yourself? 
 Those snapshots are in France, where you can- 
 not get them. So far I have kept them secret, 
 but I have arranged that if harm is done to 
 me or to Mr. Thorpe they shall be deliv- 
 ered to the French army." 
 
 Von Hausen leaned forward, a grim smile on 
 his harsh lips. 
 
 " So you call Checkmate. I see you are 
 no fool." 
 
 " Nor are you, sir," Lucy returned the com- 
 pliment. " You have yourself said that a blun- 
 der is worse than a crime. Frankly, I do not 
 believe those pictures are the least bit harmful. 
 But if you want the French to make sure on 
 that point, you have only to shoot me or Mr. 
 Thorpe." 
 
 " And if not? " 
 
 " Then I'll get them as soon as I can and 
 present them to you, providing you will treat 
 these silly accusations of Count von Pappheim 
 with the contempt they and he deserve. You 
 have seen how little his truthfulness and judg- 
 ment are to be trusted." 
 
 The general leaned over and tapped emphat- 
 ically upon the scratched rosewood table. 
 
 " Fraulein, by Sedan Day, September fourth,
 
 232 The Blond Beast 
 
 our invincible army shall have crushed France 
 down to the lowness of Spain, and on that 
 day of glorious memory for the Fatherland the 
 Crown Prince shall enter Paris. No pictures 
 from Essen could bring help to the French 
 army in so short a time." 
 
 Thorpe, himself sickened by this smashing 
 bludgeon blow that shattered Lucy's defense 
 into fragments, reached out to catch her as 
 she swayed. But she rallied and replied with 
 a fair degree of steadiness: 
 
 " If that is true, General, I then have only 
 your sense of right and justice between me 
 and the vicious false charges of Count von 
 Pappheim. ' ' 
 
 " Nein, fraulein. There is yet one chance for 
 you," rumbled the master. His fingers again 
 tapped emphatically on the ruined table top. 
 "You have shown yourself most clever. That 
 which has put your head into the lion's mouth 
 can pull it out again. Herr Thorpe will remain 
 my guest under guard while you will escape 
 through the lines to Paris. You will make loud 
 complaint of how you have been mistreated, 
 you will get that verboten film, and you will 
 learn much about the French armies. Then you 
 will come back quickly and report." 
 
 " Good God! You can't mean that! " cried 
 Thorpe. " The French will shoot her! " 
 
 " Ach and I will have only you to shoot 
 if she does not come back. In war one must 
 take risks. I risk that she will stay with the 
 French, and allow you to die. A most small 
 risk, fraulein nichtV ' '
 
 Pawns in the Game 233 
 
 Lucy's anguished glance at Thorpe had 
 answered the question before it was asked. She 
 made a brave attempt to rally. 
 
 ( l What if if I refuse to go ? I am an 
 American so is Mr. Thorpe. We will appeal 
 to our ambassador." 
 
 Von Hausen smiled grimly. " Dead men 
 and women make no appeals. Besides, only 
 a pair of spies shot. Who will bother? " 
 
 " But we are not spies, Excellenz," protested 
 Thorpe, striving to meet might with reason. 
 " There is not a particle of real proof. Miss 
 Carew is absolutely innocent. If you shoot her, 
 all America will turn against Germany." 
 
 " America pfui! Yankees care only for 
 money. They have no fighting edge, the greedy, 
 gold-rooting schweine. At the most, a half 
 apology from our Foreign Office and the inci- 
 dent is forgotten. But you and the so-charming 
 fraulein will be lying under the sod if time 
 is found to bury dead spies." 
 
 Again Lucy looked at Thorpe. "I I will 
 stay gladly, if you will only send him 
 instead." 
 
 ' ' Nein. It is work for a woman a clever, 
 pretty young woman. The French fools are 
 most gallant. We have women spies all over 
 France all over the world men, too; but 
 the women are the more successful in France. ' ' 
 
 Scorn flashed through the fear in Lucy's 
 eyes. 
 
 " Now I know why your men commit such 
 wrongs pn the wounded and helpless! " she 
 cried. " They are commanded by monsters! "
 
 234 The Blond Beast 
 
 At the look on the High Commander's face, 
 Kurt flung himself forward, his hands implor- 
 ingly outstretched. 
 
 " Excellent! She is beside herself over- 
 wrought! Von Pappheim lied! She is inno- 
 cent! I pledge my life she is innocent! " 
 
 Death glared from the reddened eyes of the 
 High Commander. He spoke with a clipped, 
 precise enunciation, more menacing than a roar: 
 " Innocent or guilty, she shall go, or she shall 
 be shot." ' 
 
 " If I go, how do I know I will not be shot 
 when I come back? " cried Lucy. 
 
 The tightly drawn lips of the general relaxed 
 in their grim smile. 
 
 " Good You will go, fraulein. When you 
 have succeeded, then a reward to you and 
 freedom for Herr Thorpe. I pledge you my 
 word. ' ' 
 
 " Was not the honor of Germany pledged to 
 respect the neutrality of Belgium? " 
 
 This time Thorpe felt certain that the order 
 of execution would be given The general 
 merely widened his smile. 
 
 " Bah! A scrap of paper, as Hollweg has 
 well said. Treaties and pledges are mere smoke 
 and ashes when self-interest no longer backs 
 them." 
 
 " Then your own word of honor? " queried 
 Lucy. 
 
 " It will stand fast. To break a good tool 
 would be a blunder. Later you can be used 
 among the Engldnder schwewe." 
 
 Lucy shuddered, glanced up at Thorpe's dis-
 
 Pawns in the Game 235 
 
 mayed face, drew in a quick breath, and quietly 
 inquired: " When do I start for Paris? " 
 
 " Good most g6od! I thought you would 
 see the point, fraulein. War is a great chess 
 game. All the pawns should be used for tak- 
 ing the kings and castles. To show there is 
 no hard feeling, I will accept the parole of 
 Herr Thorpe not to escape. He will report 
 each day to his friend Von Kissel. . .Your parole 
 d'honeur to that, Herr Thorpe." 
 
 * * Why, if you Yes, I give you my word 
 of honor, Excellenz." 
 
 The dictator turned again to Lucy. 
 
 " You will start at once. Von Pappheim has 
 told me that you have a fine car. You will be 
 taken to where there is a hole through the 
 French lines. There, in your so-sad dress, you 
 will escape from us, with perhaps one or two 
 dying Frenchmen. Now you will say farewell 
 to your friends while I write the orders. Much 
 time I have lost on this little matter. Now I 
 must go to work." 
 
 " My maid is at that hospital," said Lucy. 
 " She must go with me." 
 
 11 Ja, fraulein, ja. A fraulein should go 
 nowhere without a chaperon."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 INTO FRANCE 
 
 The High Commander drained down at one 
 enormous draught the brimming steinful of 
 champagne, heaved himself to his feet, and 
 started towards the anteroom. 
 
 " Herein," he called. 
 
 One of the aides who had shot the mirrors 
 in the salvn popped through the doorway and 
 came sharply to attention. 
 
 " Food for three at once good food," 
 snapped the master. 
 
 The young officer saluted and dashed out 
 again. As Von Hausen pompously followed 
 him, Thorpe swung around before Lucy. 
 
 " Whoops, Loo! Three cheers for the lamb 
 who bearded the lion in his den and pulled 
 the wool over Tut, tut, tut! Buck up, old 
 chum. Cut out the weeps. You've played him 
 to a fare-ye-well. Tight pinch for a while 
 sure. But now it's all over except the shout- 
 ing and the getaway. You'll make Paris in 
 two or three days, nail those confounded snap- 
 shots, and streak out for the good old U. S. A." 
 
 Kurt pressed closer, his boyish face distorted 
 with conflicting emotions. 
 
 " Hush! " he warned. " If she is to do that 
 
 236
 
 Into France 237 
 
 But she has agreed to come back . . . And if 
 she does not, your life ' ' 
 
 " Forget it! " rejoined Thorpe. " This is 
 where we put one over on the war-machine. 
 The mouse slips out of the elephant trap 
 nicU? " 
 
 Lucy dashed away the tears that brimmed 
 in her lovely eyes. 
 
 " Don't mind his nonsense, Kurt," she reas- 
 sured. " It's just like his silliness to think 
 I'd go off and leave him. I'm coming back if 
 it's possible. . .It will have to be possible." 
 
 "Oh fudge," ridiculed Thorpe. "When 
 you go, Loo, you're going to keep right on 
 going No, listen. What happens to me doesn't 
 matter a continental. It's you, old chum 
 you and and America. Don't you see? We're 
 neutrals. We can't shame our country by 
 betraying France. ' ' 
 
 " Not even to save our lives?" questioned 
 the girl. " Don't be silly, Lan. Who got you 
 into this mess? I'm at least going to fetch 
 those miserable snapshots. When he. sees how 
 harmless they are, he'll let you go, and maybe 
 me too." 
 
 " Yes, yes," eagerly broke in Kurt. " That 
 will prove you are not against the Fatherland. 
 I shall ask for you to be sent to the mother 
 and Elsa. If Von Pappheim seeks again to 
 interfere, I will challenge him." 
 
 The girl smiled at his fervor. "Sir Galahad! 
 Or is it Parsifal ? And you, Lan Trust in 
 the Lord, and keep your powder dry. Between 
 you and me and Kurt, we'll all pull each other
 
 238 The Blond Beast 
 
 out by the boot straps before we are through." 
 
 The brave banter failed to lighten Thorpe's 
 dejection. " It's no joke, Loo. I tell you 
 flatly, if you'll not promise to " 
 
 " Sh-s-sh! " she warned. " That captain and 
 Oh, thank goodness! Vittles and drink 
 a meal, a real civilized meal! I've not had a 
 bite all day. I could eat a fried gargoyle! " 
 
 All private talk was now at an end. With 
 the orderlies who appeared to serve dinner for 
 the High Commander's " guests " came the 
 young aide and the captain whose car had led 
 the party to headquarters. While the captain 
 gravely explained that he had been chosen to 
 escort the fraulein through the lines, one of 
 the orderlies cleared the table by the simple 
 process of gathering up the used table service 
 in the cloth and hurling all into a corner. 
 
 But even the crash of the shattered eggshell 
 china could not divert Lucy from her delight 
 over the dinner that was served on a fresh 
 cloth. The cream of the land had been skimmed 
 for the High Commander and the mess of his 
 personal staff. Kurt shared Lucy's high spir- 
 its from the start, and Thorpe hastened to 
 make pretense of light-heartedness. To have 
 continued glum might have depressed the girl 
 when she most needed strengthening. 
 
 The captain sat at the fourth side of the 
 table, politely attentive to the needs of the 
 guests and observant of all that passed between 
 them. After the dessert he summoned a brawny 
 German deaconess dressed in black, with a 
 white coif and Red Cross armlets. She took
 
 Into France 239 
 
 Lucy for a half hour's rest, while the men 
 went to see that the car was ready. Soldier 
 mechanics were carefully overhauling the engine 
 and running gear. A staff car whirled up out 
 of the darkness, with Lucy's elderly French 
 maid, Marcelle, cowering between a pair of 
 young aides in the tonneau. 
 
 All too soon for Thorpe, Lucy appeared with 
 her duenna, the German amazon deaconess. 
 Framed about by the dark wrap that covered 
 her nurse's coif, the girl's face looked very 
 white. But she flung a reassuring greeting 
 to Marcelle, who had been transferred to the 
 tonneau of her car, and smiled with seeming 
 cheerfulness as she gave a hand to each of 
 her anxious friends. 
 
 " Good-by! Don't worry. Yes, I'll soon be 
 back, Kurt. Take care of yourself, Lan." 
 
 Thorpe felt her hand cling lingeringly in his 
 palm. He gave her a comrade-like pat on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Buck up and keep going, as I told you," 
 he muttered. " After the war Kurt can come 
 to you." 
 
 She drew her hand away and sprang up 
 into the driver's seat. Kurt had turned to 
 her escort. He spoke rapidly, in German: 
 
 " Herr Captain, the fraulein is an intimate 
 friend of my mother. I have asked her to 
 be my wife. You will do me the courtesy of 
 seeing that she is treated with utmost respect." 
 
 11 Ja. Excellent has so ordered," replied the 
 captain. 
 
 He swung in beside Lucy, leaving Marcelle
 
 240 The Blond Beast 
 
 alone in the tonneau. The engine hegan to 
 purr. A last glance and wave from Lucy, and 
 the car shot away into the night. 
 
 An orderly showed the friends to the mag- 
 nificent and as yet unvandalized bedchamber 
 assigned to their use. 
 
 Between exhaustion from the stress of that 
 fearful day, and the shred of comfort given by 
 the aide's parting assurance, Thorpe fell asleep 
 while trying to picture Lucy's night ride across 
 the battle front. In that mad chaos of death 
 there might well be peril awaiting her a shot 
 from an over-zealous picket, the devilish leaden 
 spray of a machine-gun, a chance shell. But 
 Von Hausen had spoken of a gap in the French 
 lines, and there was the escort captain to safe- 
 guard the car past the German out-posts . . . 
 
 Dawn brought a day of brooding inaction for 
 Thorpe, of joyful activity to Kurt. All behind 
 the German front there was a furious rushing 
 up of guns and munitions, and hurried attempts 
 to maneuver and tactically mass the excess of 
 troops. 
 
 Stray bit? of information leaked out or were 
 openly announced at General Headquarters. Up 
 the Meuse on the line to Verdun, Wurttemberg 
 and the Crown Prince had not smashed through 
 the French armies, after all. The Engldnder 
 schweine were not yet penned up. They were 
 running away too fast. But at Cambrai Von 
 Kluck's flanking corps would sweep around and 
 slaughter them all. Then he would crumple up 
 the exposed left flank of the French. 
 
 Everywhere was victory. On the Alsace-
 
 Into France 241 
 
 Lorraine front the French had been defeated 
 at Deuz and Neufchatel, and Luneville was cap- 
 tured. Forty million dollars had been levied 
 from Brussels. The little Belgian army, now 
 split off from all hope of junction with the 
 French, was being driven back on Antwerp. 
 At all points the invincible, scientific German 
 armies had more and bigger guns and a decided 
 superiority in men, alike as to numbers, train- 
 ing and equipment. Ja, ja, Sedan Day should 
 see the French armies crushed and the Crown 
 Prince riding into Paris! 
 
 Thorpe believed this prediction no less firmly 
 than did all the German officers about him. He 
 saw a map on which pins showed the tremen- 
 dous swoop of Von Kluck's army corps south- 
 westward from Brussels. Their van was already 
 rounding the flank into the rear of the positions 
 marked for the British tip of the French left 
 wing. 
 
 On Wednesday, August the twenty-sixth, Von 
 Hausen's and Von Billow's armies crashed for- 
 ward again all along the line from Givet to 
 Cambrai. The forts at Givet were taken. The 
 immense French fortress of Maubeuge, on the 
 Sambre, a few miles south of Mons, was invested 
 and left until the great howitzers could be 
 brought up to repeat the frightful destruction 
 they had wrought at Liege and Namur. 
 
 Before the massive impact of the invading 
 armies, the French were driven back but not 
 routed. On the contrary, they struck a terrific 
 flanking blow at the immense concentration of 
 German corps that were being hurled at the
 
 242 The Blond Beast 
 
 British. And the British, attacked again as 
 at Mons by five times their number, again 
 fought their way clear, and in turn saved the 
 French wing before Von Kluck could trap them 
 with his southward rushing horde. 
 
 At General Headquarters Thorpe heard much 
 cursing when word was received that the Eng- 
 Idnder schweine had once more escaped annihi- 
 lation. Kurt was challenged by half a dozen 
 furious young fellow aides merely for remark- 
 ing that the British must be good soldiers. The 
 duels were averted only by the veto of the High 
 Commander, to whom the usual officers' court 
 of honor referred the matter. 
 
 " Donnerwetter! To kill each other, so long 
 as there is a Frenchman alive nein! nein! . . . 
 The disloyal talk of Lieutenant von Kissel? 
 Ach, I will show what I think of that boy." 
 
 The "show" came at an inspection of the 
 Imperial Guard Corps, which was still re-form- 
 ing in the rear of the battle front. Before 
 the rigidly saluting Von Pappheim and his com- 
 pany and the regimental officers, an order was 
 read citing Lieutenant von Kissel for his brave 
 rescue of the captain, and announcing his pro- 
 motion to a first lieutenancy. The High Com- 
 mander with his own hands then pinned the 
 Iron Cross on the breast of the blushing, gulp- 
 ing hero. 
 
 After this there were no more black looks 
 and sneering smiles at the new aide of the 
 High Commander. Instead, both Ober-lieuten- 
 ant von Kissel and his Americanisch friend 
 came in for all the pleasant attentions at Gen-
 
 Into France 243 
 
 eral Headquarters that the rush and hurly- 
 burly of the advance would permit. 
 
 Thorpe could not have brought himself to 
 the point of currying favor. But he did not 
 go out of his way to avoid it. He tried to 
 be wise in his generation. The better the 
 impression he made on the entourage of the 
 High Commander, the better his chance of sav- 
 ing Lucy from her cruel dilemma if she 
 returned. That she would attempt to come back 
 he had not the slightest doubt. His fervent 
 hope was that the French would stop her. But 
 this was qualified by the acute dread that their 
 interference might turn on the discovery that 
 she was acting as a spy. 
 
 With the advance of the armies, General 
 Headquarters also were moved forward. Kurt's 
 modest share in the loot of the chateau was 
 a fine rosewood piano for Elsa and a set of 
 magnificent furs for the mother. As Thorpe 
 saw the carefully labeled boxes trundled off 
 towards Germany in Bed Cross trucks, along 
 with the other plunder from the burning cha- 
 teau, he suddenly realized how little he had 
 been thinking of the deliciously sweet fraulein 
 to whom he was all but betrothed. 
 
 Throughout the fearfully eventful hours and 
 days since their parting, his mind had been 
 glutted with the horrors of war of fire and 
 massacre, fighting, pillaging, slaughter. And 
 to this frightfulness had been added the black 
 dread of danger to Lucy. Was not that suffi- 
 cient explanation why he had so forgotten all 
 else in the world even the adorable, darling
 
 244 The Blond Beast 
 
 girl who had parted from him so reluctantly? 
 
 But now that he remembered, he hastened 
 to write her a long and loving letter. Con- 
 sideration for her feelings made impossible any 
 mention of the massacres of civilians and 
 wounded and the outrages upon women and 
 girls that had accompanied the advance of the 
 gray host of Majestdt. Still more unthinkable 
 was any reference to the defilement of the few 
 villas and chateaux left unburned. 
 
 After this first letter, Thorpe wrote three 
 or four more, one for each day of the cyclonic 
 advance down into France. But he omitted to 
 mention the frightful fate of the frontier village 
 where she and the mother had been detained 
 by the courteous little captain of Territorials. 
 
 All the officers and men of Von Hausen's 
 forward driving columns were wildly jubilant. 
 The fat of the land was theirs for the taking, 
 and they took with both hands wine and jel- 
 lies, poultry and jewels; also women when they 
 pleased ladies for the officers, village and 
 peasant girls for the men. Wine, women and 
 war what more could be asked? " To suffer 
 is strengthening; to inflict suffering is more 
 strengthening." Hurrah for the blond beasts 
 of Nietzsche! 
 
 But at the shifting General Headquarters, 
 all was not merry. Why did not the sly French 
 rats stand and fight, so that they might be 
 hacked to pieces? But no, they must fall back 
 and fall back; and Von Kluck was still stretch- 
 ing his legs off to outflank the Engldnder 
 schweine, who kept shooting down windrows of
 
 Into France 245 
 
 good cannon-fodder with their hellish rifle fire 
 and then falling back, also the cowards! 
 instead of waiting to be surrounded and smashed 
 by five times their number. All history told 
 that the frothy French were good at attack. 
 But this steady retreat, retreat, retreat, with 
 no break in their armies, no sign of rout it 
 was most unnatural it was trying to the 
 nerves of even a Teuton High Commander and 
 his no-less phlegmatic scientific staff officers. 
 
 On the last days of August the electric ten- 
 sion was broken by a double stroke of French 
 lightning. In the Ardennes a sudden stiffen- 
 ing of the enemy's rear, guard held up the 
 Saxons of Von Hausen's left, while Sarrail 
 hurled the great army of the Grand Duke of 
 Wurttemberg back over the Meuse in disorder. 
 At the same time the Imperial Prussian Guard, 
 now on Von Hausen's right with Von Billow's 
 Hanoverians, were struck a crashing blow on 
 the flank and driven back over the Oise, their 
 ranks almost as badly cut up as at Givet. 
 
 The reverses brought chagrin to the German 
 line, and grim smiles to General Headquarters. 
 Good! The impetuous French fools would 
 now hold in the center while Von Kluck swept on 
 in his terrific flanking rush. First the annoying 
 little army of devilish British sharpshooters, who 
 had saved the French left from envelopment; 
 then a big swing around behind the French, and, 
 kaput! the big game also bagged. What more 
 simple I 
 
 Hardly were the Guards flung back when Von 
 Kluck 's van reached Amiens. All hope of the
 
 246 The Blond Beast 
 
 Britishers to escape annihilation was now past. . . 
 With this good news came the report of three 
 whole .Russian army corps destroyed or captured 
 in the Masurian Marshes; also a report that 
 Deutschland 's new allies, the Americans, were 
 helping to defend her Chinese possessions against 
 the Japanese. 
 
 Thorpe smiled neither at the real news nor at 
 the canard. He was far too concerned over 
 Kurt's insistence upon leaving the staff. Zealous 
 to share in the final drive that was to make an 
 end of France, Ober-lieutenant von Kissel had 
 applied for a vacancy created in his own com- 
 pany by the enemy. Excellenz approved such 
 high spirit. Kurt went back to the line, and 
 with him went Thorpe, still under parole not to 
 escape.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 A NIGHT SURPRISE 
 
 Back to Berlin flashed glowing reports of how 
 at last the net was really closing about the hard- 
 driven quarry. And while all Germany drew in 
 breath after the Masurian victory-cry to shout 
 the triumph in France, the pig-headed Englisher 
 dogs must go and break through again out of 
 the St. Quentin snare, leaving their usual 
 memento of high-heaped Deutsch cannon-fodder. 
 
 Worse still, the unobliging French must con- 
 tinue to fall back in line with their hateful flank 
 guard. How was the scientific German High 
 Command to display its strategy if the enemy 
 did not act as had been scientifically forecast? 
 To add insult to injury, the enemy continually 
 fought strong rear guard actions that tantalized 
 with the promise of the final death grapple, yet 
 always ended in another retreat. 
 
 At the crossing of the Aisne, on the way to 
 Rheims, the uhlan scouts of the leading Guard 
 column were ambushed by Turcos left to defend 
 the half-destroyed bridge. The sun had set. To 
 win the bridgehead before dark, Kurt's regiment 
 charged across the stream without waiting for a 
 bombardment to clear the way. The Turcos fled 
 with the haste of stampeded cattle. Such a 
 
 247
 
 248 The Blond Beast 
 
 weak defense such a panic-stricken flight 
 here at last was certain proof that the enemy 
 had become demoralized by continuously retreat- 
 ing before the tidal wave of Deutschland's invin- 
 cible host. 
 
 The bulk of the Prussian column contentedly 
 bivouaced on the north side of the stream, while 
 their engineers repaired the bridge. Kurt's regi- 
 ment threw forward a picket line, and settled 
 down for the night in the deserted hamlet on 
 the south bank. Thorpe helped the other Red 
 Cross men gather up the few Prussian wounded 
 and bring them to the tiny mairie. There were 
 no Turco wounded after the Guards were done 
 with them. 
 
 A long day's march beside Kurt had already 
 tired Thorpe. At the end of his stretcher work, 
 instead of going to officers' mess, as usual, he 
 took a sandwich supper in company with the 
 portly surgeon, requisitioned a " feather bed," 
 and sought rest on the floor of the mairie attic. 
 He was shivering from the damp cold of the 
 September nightfall that had followed the intense 
 smothering heat of the day. But, rolled in the 
 voluminous softness of the wide mattress, he 
 soon glowed into soporific warmth. 
 
 Either his sleep was very heavy or a thick 
 corner of the feather-filled mattress muffled his 
 ears. Bedlam was raging around the mairie 
 before he heard and roused up ... There was no 
 mistaking those panther yells that rose above 
 the rattle-clack of machine-guns and irregular 
 reports of rifles. The wild Turcos had doubled 
 back to strike the head of the Guard column.
 
 A Night Surprise 249 
 
 Thorpe jerked on the officer's walking boots 
 that had been procured for him by Kurt, caught 
 up his surgeon's coat, and groped across the 
 attic to the ladder-like stairway. He came down 
 into the lamp-lit improvised hospital ward just 
 in time to see the portly surgeon-major, booted 
 but trouserless, bolt out through the street door- 
 way. All his assistants had gone before. Thorpe 
 started to dash after him, but stopped short. 
 
 Of the wounded Prussians, only those were 
 left whose injuries made futile any attempt to 
 escape. Several had struggled half erect on 
 their straw heaps and were shrieking in terrified 
 anticipation of the fate they had so often meted 
 out to the French injured. Thorpe flung on his 
 coat and turned back to quiet the panic. 
 
 The furious din of yells and clashing steel 
 was already sweeping past the front of the 
 mairie. A pair of Turcos burst in from the 
 street, one with bayonet out-thrust before the 
 crimsoning sabre slash down the front of his 
 yellow tunic, the other with dagger upraised 
 above his fezless black head. They glared 
 ferociously. 
 
 Thorpe flung up his hands. " Blesses! " he 
 cried. " La croix rouge! Docteur! ' 
 
 Both Turcos leaped at him with weapons 
 brandished. Certain that his last moment had 
 come, he clenched his fists. At least he would 
 not die like a sheep. The possibility of a chance 
 flashed into his abnormally active brain. 
 
 " Neutral Americain! " he shouted. 
 
 The fezless Turco yelled to his mate. They 
 bounded to each side of Thorpe and on around
 
 250 The Blond Beast 
 
 him, before he could retreat. He whirled to face 
 them. An instant later he was reeling back- 
 wards towards the street door before their 
 menacing weapons. As he stumbled on the 
 threshold, there was a rush outside. Wiry hands 
 gripped his arms and dragged him swiftly off 
 up the night-shrouded street, away from the 
 wild flashing and flaring of shots, the yells and 
 shrieks and furious in-fighting of the surprise 
 attack. 
 
 Thorpe'made no attempt to struggle or hang 
 back. He could feel the prickle of a dagger-point 
 at the nape of his neck. Behind and overhead 
 bright lights glared out. The Prussians were 
 sending up rockets from across the Aisne. At 
 once three-inch shells began to burst all in and 
 around the village. Thorpe lengthened his stride. 
 He realized he was now in more danger from 
 the Prussians than from his captors. 
 
 As he fled from the bombardment in the midst 
 of the little squad that had taken him prisoner, 
 he conjectured that the Turcos had stealthily 
 killed or captured the Prussian pickets, and then 
 rushed the village before the regiment could 
 form ranks. Triumphant yells told that the half- 
 armed Prussians were being driven into the 
 river. But the absence of up-rushing reserves 
 led Thorpe to believe the attack no more than 
 a show of force a bluff to hold up the advance 
 of the invading column. 
 
 The Turco squad raced on out of the village 
 and between untrampled fields to the shelter of 
 a wood. Here they sagged from top speed into 
 a jog trot. At the end of half an hour, a " Qui
 
 A Night Surprise 251 
 
 vive? " brought them up short. One advanced 
 and gave the password. After that followed 
 another jog of a mile or two, and another chal- 
 lenge ; then on a little way farther to a lone inn, 
 before which a bunch of saddled horses were 
 munching wheat from the nearby field. 
 
 A muttered word at the door, and Thorpe 
 panting, sweating, reeling from exhaustion was 
 thrust into a candle-lit taproom. At the table 
 a major of Turcos was supping upon dainty 
 French sandwiches. As he caught sight of 
 Thorpe's clean-shaven face, surgeon's coat and 
 civilian trousers, his thin aristocratic face lighted 
 with a gracious smile. 
 
 " A thousand pardons that monsieur has been 
 hurried," he apologized in faultless English. 
 " Pray be seated." 
 
 Thorpe dropped into a chair, with a gasp: 
 ' ' Whew! Thanks awfully ! " 
 
 The major bowed. " Pardon me, but have I 
 not the pleasure of addressing Monsieur Allan 
 Thorpe? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm " Thorpe paused to muster a 
 responsive smile " I hope it's a real pleasure, 
 sir." 
 
 The officer rose. " Request is made that 
 monsieur give his parole he will not attempt to 
 escape. ' * 
 
 Thorpe stared in sudden dismay. 
 
 " If Loo is has returned! " he gasped, and 
 he flung out his hand in desperate appeal. 
 " Major, I'm only a neutral, a Red Cross volun- 
 teer. Permit me to rejoin the Guard ambulance! 
 I gave my word to the High Commander. I
 
 252 The Blond Beast 
 
 have the hest of reasons. I I must go back! " 
 
 " Monsieur has not broken his word to the 
 barbarian general. He has been taken prisoner. 
 The circumstances are known to me. As an 
 officer and gentleman, I assure monsieur that the 
 obligation to his honor has been removed. A 
 surprise awaits him. Will he now give his 
 parole not to return, or must force be required 
 to detain him! " 
 
 " It's very kind of you to give me the alterna- 
 tive, sir; but there's something else. Even if 
 it means shooting, I'm bound to break away if 
 I can." 
 
 The major called in half a dozen swarthy 
 Turcos, spoke to them in their own language, 
 bowed regretfully, and passed out at the side 
 door. The men closed around Thorpe. Resist- 
 ance would have been futile. He stood still while 
 they bound his hands behind him. He was taken 
 out, placed upon a horse, and started off between 
 a pair of mounted men. 
 
 At midnight his guards stopped at an inn 
 before which he made out the dim bulk of a big 
 touring car. 
 
 " Headquarters third degree for mine,*' he 
 muttered. " I thought that Frenchman was a 
 bit too polite." 
 
 One of the Turcos went in. After a brief 
 delay he came out to help lift the prisoner down 
 from the saddle and push him, still bound, 
 through the doorway. As Thorpe stood blinking 
 in the bright light, a joyful voice cried at his 
 shoulder : 
 
 1 * Oh, Lan ! So he has caught you at last ! ' '
 
 A Night Surprise 253 
 
 He jerked half around to gape at the smiling 
 radiant-eyed girl who was reaching out to clasp 
 his bound arm. 
 
 " Loo! You here and safe!. . .But are you? 
 Have they are they holding you too! " 
 
 She made a gesture to the nearest Turco. The 
 man drew his dagger, cut the cords that held 
 Thorpe's arms, and stalked out with his swarthy 
 mate. 
 
 " What's the answer? " rallied the girl as she 
 steadied Thorpe to a chair. " But I'll not tease 
 you, Lan. You look as if you'd been pulled 
 through a knothole. To give you the headlines: 
 "When that cruel General von Hausen sent me 
 south, I had the good fortune to run across 
 Polly's husband, the Duke of Montmar. He's a 
 major of Turcos, you know." 
 
 " Major? Then it must be he who... Tall, 
 thin-faced, aristocratic? " 
 
 " Of course. . .You see, as he was Polly's hus- 
 band, I told him everything how Von Hausen 
 forced me to come as a spy by keeping you for 
 hostage. So Etienne passed the word along to 
 watch out for you. He felt sure you would be 
 rescued at the Oise. I was so disappointed. But 
 better late than never. Isn't it glorious that 
 you've escaped! " 
 
 * ' Out of the frying pan into the fire, ' ' qualified 
 Thorpe. 
 
 " Never think of it, Lan. These French are 
 human beings, not Supermen. They do not shoot 
 prisoners or bayonet the German wounded." 
 
 Thorpe was about to repeat German counter- 
 accusations of atrocities by the French. In
 
 254 The Blond Beast 
 
 particular, savage tales about the ferocity of the 
 Turcos were current in the German ranks. Yet 
 he recalled how, in the mairie, his fight-heated 
 captors had refrained from killing a single 
 injured Prussian. 
 
 " I don't know about that," he replied? " The 
 point is, I'm now doubly a prisoner." 
 
 " Oh, no. I've told you Etienne understands. 
 I gave him my word you had done no more than 
 help in Eed Cross work and that you would not 
 act as a spy for the Germans if released from 
 them and set free. Haven't you still your pass- 
 port with the French vise? Etienne allowed me 
 to keep my car, on condition that I give it up 
 at Paris. Our ambassador is giving out money 
 and tickets. All we need do is make for England, 
 where we can get a steamer home. Etienne 
 advises that we get clear away from the 
 Germans." 
 
 A quick reproof passed Thorpe's lips before 
 he could check it: " You seem to have made a 
 sudden hit with Etienne. ' ' 
 
 Lucy lowered her dark lashes to veil the 
 sparkle in her lovely green eyes. ' * Oh Etienne 
 he is simply charming! Such kindness and 
 perfect manners! " 
 
 Thorpe believed himself speaking in a tone 
 of brotherly admonition: " Don't forget the 
 man is French and the husband of your 
 friend. ' ' 
 
 11 How could It " queried Lucy, masking a 
 smile. " You should see the bulging envelopeful 
 of envy and covetousness I've written to Polly. 
 Etienne is a a Chevalier Bayard, brave as a
 
 A Night Surprise 255 
 
 lion, gentle as a dove. After such un-French 
 officers as Von Pappheim, I have found him 
 irresistibly fascinating. You haven't yet told 
 me about Kurt." 
 
 The abrupt shift threw into Thorpe's mind a 
 spotlight that shone through the flimsy mask of 
 his self-deception. The mention of Kurt inevita- 
 bly brought up the image of Elsa. He flushed 
 hotly in the vivid realization that his concern 
 over Lucy's interest in the Duke of Montmar had 
 not been based altogether on brotherly feeling. 
 He sought to rally. 
 
 11 I don't understand about your Bayard, but 
 Kurt is what you dubbed him a Sir Galahad. 
 You know how he saved Von Pappheim from the 
 Turcos " 
 
 " With your help," murmured Lucy. 
 
 ' ' No, he was leading man the whole show. 
 I merely acted as a supe. It has already won 
 him the Iron Cross. And since then... He has 
 the bad habit of leading, instead of driving his 
 men. If only he escaped those savage Turcos 
 to-night! " 
 
 ' ' Indeed, yes ! ' ' exclaimed Lucy. But after 
 a moment's pause, she remarked in her old-time 
 ironic tone: " Let us not forget that those Turco 
 savages have pulled you out of the frying pan, 
 and so saved me the annoyance of jumping 
 back in." 
 
 Thorpe stared. " You can't mean, Loo, that 
 you really intended to carry out that fool notion 
 of going back? I gathered that Polly's husband 
 put his foot down on it." 
 
 " Not at all. He merely required me to wait
 
 256 The Blond Beast 
 
 while the effort was being made to rescue yon. 
 To-morrow I was to race down to Montmar for 
 those miserable snapshots; then back here, to 
 wait for the Boches, with a notebook full of 
 information that the French wish to fall into 
 their hands." 
 
 " Information that the French wished. . .You'd 
 have done that would have double-crossed the 
 High Commander? " 
 
 " Didn't he force me to try to spy on the 
 French? " 
 
 " But but the danger you'd have been in if 
 you'd tried it! Good Lord, Loo! Haven't you 
 any sense ? All you need have done was to streak 
 for home, as I told you." 
 
 Lucy quivered at the acute concern in his look 
 and tone, but bit her red lip and replied tartly: 
 
 " I have at least a sense of obligation. Your 
 getting into that mess was all because of me. 
 The least I could do was to get you out. Besides, 
 every bit of information was to be absolutely 
 accurate. If the facts were so selected that the 
 Boches drew wrong inferences, they'd have had 
 no excuse to blame me for their stupidity. 
 Etienne's first thought was for my safety. Won't 
 it be great fun teasing Polly about it when we 
 get home? " 
 
 Thorpe forced a laugh. 
 
 " Ripping! Let's hop into your go-cart and 
 hit the high places. Where's Marcelle? We 
 have no time to hang around. Von Kluck may 
 already have cut us off from Paris. I'm going 
 to ship you out of France before everything 
 falls to pieces."
 
 A Mght Surprise 257 
 
 " You'll sail with me, Lan? " 
 
 " No, I can't go with you," muttered Thorpe. 
 
 " How absurd! Even if I have to leave 
 Marcelle such times as these, to fuss over 
 conventionalities! " 
 
 "What!... But it's not that at all. You 
 remember, I gave my word to the High Com- 
 mander. As long as I've been brought here 
 forcibly, I feel that I have the right to see you 
 safe aboard ship. Then, of course, it's up to me 
 to come back and keep my parole." 
 
 All the rich color fled from Lucy's cheeks. 
 
 " Lan You can't mean it? Why, it's 
 really absurd! I know you gave Von Hausen 
 your word not to try to escape. You didn't 
 escape. You were taken prisoner. You still are 
 a prisoner. A prisoner had a perfect right to 
 accept parole. You will give me your word, or 
 you shall be imprisoned. Etienne will do just 
 what I ask of him." 
 
 " Well, it's true he told me it would not be 
 breaking my word to the general. I believe he is 
 right, providing I stay in France." 
 
 " That settles it. Write a note to Etienne 
 accepting parole. I shall call Marcelle. You 
 will leave the note here, and we'll motor into 
 Rheims. It's only three or four miles."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 A FATEFUL MEETING 
 
 A few moments after Lucy left Thorpe, a 
 servant brought him a bottle of light wine, bread, 
 and writing materials. Lucy soon returned with 
 the blinking Marcelle, two suitcases, and a 
 civilian coat. Upon the sleeves of the coat, 
 mistress and maid promptly began to sew French 
 Bed Cross emblems. 
 
 " Now change coats," ordered Lucy. " We'll 
 take the surgeon's jacket along as a curiosity. 
 Soldiers are bringing all kinds of queer trophies 
 from the front." 
 
 The food and drink had so refreshed Thorpe 
 that he insisted upon driving. With a stately 
 Turco orderly at his side to answer the chal- 
 lenges of French patrols and sentries, he motored 
 Lucy and her maid into Bheims. The city was 
 undefended, as the French had already evacuated 
 the forts. But instead of hastening on towards 
 Paris, Lucy chose to spend the remainder of the 
 night at a hotel. The Turco returned to his 
 command. 
 
 As the party sat at a none too early breakfast, 
 word came that Prussian uhlans were entering 
 the city. Lucy ordered out her car. Before a 
 start could be made, reports were received that 
 
 258
 
 A Fateful Meeting 259 
 
 other German columns farther west had already 
 flooded in between Rheims and Paris. Lucy 
 directed Thorpe to head south, parallel with the 
 French-wrecked railway. 
 
 At Epernay, where the party crossed the Marne 
 about mid-afternoon, they fell in with a force 
 of French troops. The commander approved the 
 pass given by the Duke of Montmar, but promptly 
 requisitioned the services of herself, Thorpe, the 
 maid and the car for hospital use. She and 
 Marcelle joined the Sisters of Mercy who were 
 nursing those of the French wounded that had 
 been brought to this part of the Marne in the 
 Great Retreat. 
 
 Thorpe was set to motoring injured officers on 
 south across the summer-dried Marshes of St. 
 Gond and up past the Castle of Montmar to 
 Sezanne. He was astonished to find the French 
 soldiers far other than the demoralized, dis- 
 integrating mob that he had expected. For over 
 two weeks they had been hurled back by that 
 tremendous gray flood of invaders. They had 
 suffered defeat after defeat. They were wonder- 
 struck over the endless myriads of their enemies. 
 Yet now they contemptuously asserted that les 
 Allemands were stupid clumsy brutes who could 
 not shoot and who dreaded the bayonet. 
 
 Though Thorpe far from agreed with the 
 slighting opinion of the Frenchmen, it compelled 
 him to realize the marvelous morale of these 
 troops that the Germans considered as good as 
 bagged. After all these days of hard fighting 
 and no less hard marching, after being flanked 
 or flooded back for nearly a hundred and fifty
 
 260 The Blond Beast 
 
 miles, the best of troops might well have been 
 disheartened. Instead, every man Thorpe saw 
 was aquiver with eagerness for the word to 
 turn and charge the hated invaders; every man 
 was certain of victory. 
 
 Even the wounded officers, with whom Thorpe 
 talked on the way to Sezanne, were as confident 
 as their uninjured fellow officers and the men. 
 In reply to his references to the overwhelming 
 numbers of the Germans, their superior training, 
 and highly scientific generals, the Frenchmen 
 merely smiled and shrugged and advised him to 
 wait a little longer before he passed judgment. 
 They gave him no military information, but 
 spoke confidently of their own General Foch and 
 of the little-known silent Commander-in-Chief 
 Joffre. From this, no less than from the number 
 of troops that were entrenching in the Marshes 
 of St. Gond and on the heights to the south, 
 Thorpe surmised that the French expected soon 
 to halt their line for the last desperate struggle 
 against annihilation by the invincible death-flood 
 of Germans. 
 
 In the meantime, the countless gray columns 
 of the invaders were streaming on southward 
 with fearful rapidity. Besides the larger part 
 of Belgium, most of the coal and manufacturing 
 portion of North France , already lay crushed 
 under the iron heel of the conquerors. Friday, 
 the fourth of September, found them across the 
 Marne all the way from Chalons, west to within 
 twenty-five miles of Paris. 
 
 Throughout the sickening heat of Thursday 
 and the bleak dank chill of the misty night that
 
 A Fateful Meeting 261 
 
 followed, Thorpe raced to and from Sezanne 
 with his car loads of wounded. Friday morning 
 his last return trip brought him back to Epernay 
 as the uhlans and cyclists of a Prussian column 
 raced each other across the Marne bridge into 
 the town. He whirled the car around before the 
 hospital, and dashed in to get Lucy. She refused 
 to leave without the dangerously wounded patient 
 whom she and Marcelle were nursing. 
 
 Thorpe did not stop to argue. He caught the 
 willful girl up in his arms and ran out, followed 
 by her maid. A dozen or more uhlans were 
 already within sight, trotting their horses up 
 from the river. The car engine had been left 
 running. Thorpe sprang into the front seat, 
 gripped Lucy's arm fast under his elbow, and 
 started the car the instant that Marcelle scram- 
 bled into the tonneau. 
 
 Back along the street yelled a fierce view- 
 halloo as the uhlans sighted the quarry and 
 came galloping, with lances ready to stab. 
 Thorpe shifted to high and flung his weight upon 
 the accelerator. The big car leaped forward 
 like a spurred beast. Mauser carbine bullets 
 began to zip and ping overhead like angry 
 hornets. 
 
 The car took the first corner on two wheels. 
 Thorpe raced to the next turn, eased around it, 
 and then again applied the accelerator. The 
 car whizzed southwards on the road to Sezanne 
 at a speed that mounted rapidly from thirty to 
 fifty miles an hour. The uhlans were already 
 hopelessly outdistanced. 
 
 A meek voice quavered in Thorpe's ear: " You
 
 262 The Blond Beast 
 
 might let go my arm, Lan. It must be black 
 and blue and I'm not apt to jump out now." 
 
 He pushed back in his seat, easing the grip 
 of his elbow that had clamped her arm against 
 his side with convulsive force. 
 
 " You little loon," he growled. " Think I'd 
 let them get you! " 
 
 Lucy patted her bruised arm, smiled demurely, 
 and inquired in the same meek voice: " What 
 are you going to do with me, Lochinvar? " 
 
 He frowned at such levity. 
 
 " I'd lecture you if I had time," he answered 
 in the same tone of angry concern. ' * The French 
 Government stampeded to Bordeaux yesterday. 
 Looks as if they have thrown up the sponge for 
 all North France. They must know Von Kluck 
 isn't headed for Paris. It is heavily fortified. 
 Von Moltke would be an idiot to allow the invest- 
 ment of the city before the French armies are 
 crushed. The French soldiers know it. That's 
 why their troops nearest Paris the British 
 have dropped back south and east of the city." 
 
 " Von Moltke? " Lucy repeated the harsh 
 name. " Isn't he Chief of the German General 
 Staff? A scout who slipped through from 
 Eheims reported that he was coming to Epernay 
 with General von Hausen." 
 
 " Moltke there? " exclaimed Thorpe. " And 
 Von Hausen 's army the strongest of all Saxons 
 and the Imperial Guard must be at least two 
 hundred thousand. No guess about it! Von 
 Kluck 's attempt to flank has failed. They're 
 going to smash through the French line right 
 here in the middle. We had better scoot past
 
 A Fateful Meeting 263 
 
 Sezanne and hit the high places for Bordeaux. " 
 Joy sparkled in Lucy's eyes. She started to 
 speak, checked herself, and pressed her smiling 
 lips tightly together. 
 
 A few minutes brought the speeding car to 
 the marshes. Thorpe whirled on across the 
 Petit Morin. Over beyond, at the base of the 
 plateau slope, he swooped up on a squad of 
 Turcos, two of whom were supporting a mounted 
 officer in his saddle. They had just turned into 
 a side road that led southeastward towards Fere 
 Champenoise. Four or five wheeled about to 
 cover the approaching car with their rifles. 
 
 As Thorpe came to a quick stop, Lucy stood 
 up to gaze over the heads of the grimy sweaty 
 leg-weary Turcos at the bowed back of their 
 wounded leader. 
 
 " Etienne! " she called " Etienne! " 
 In an effort to straighten and look about, the 
 duke wrenched the bullet wound in his side. He 
 swooned into the arms of the big Turco on his 
 right. Lucy sprang out and ordered him placed 
 in the tonneau. Supported between her and 
 Marcelle, he was soon revived by a stimulant. 
 But the continued pallor of his haggard pain- 
 racked face told that his wound was extremely 
 serious. At sight of the girl his sunken eyes 
 lighted and he forced a smile. 
 
 " Ah, ma belle amie Lucy! Bon jour," he 
 murmured feverishly. " But be pleased to return 
 me to my saddle. I go to the chateau. You must 
 not linger north of Sezanne. The Boches come 
 quickly. Be so kind as to bear to Polie my loving 
 adieu. ' '
 
 264 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Yes, yes," soothed Lucy. " But first Mr. 
 Thorpe will take us all to Sezanne." 
 
 "Now,) belle amie My horse... This wound 
 is beyond surgery. . .Montmar. . .1 prefer to die 
 at the chateau." 
 
 " To the chateau, then. Have no fear for my 
 safety, Etienne. There's lots of time hours 
 to spare." 
 
 The duke smiled his thanks, whispered a com- 
 mand to his men, and closed his eyes. A Turco 
 sprang in beside Thorpe. The others tramped 
 wearily after the car as it swung around and up 
 the side road to the Castle of Montmar. 
 
 In reply to Thorpe's questions, his swarthy 
 seat-mate told with vengeful rage how a large 
 patrol of Prussians had treacherously wounded 
 his major. By using flags of truce, they had lured 
 into a machine-gun ambush the scant company 
 of the duke's battalion that had survived their 
 night attack at the Aisne. Thorpe bit his lip 
 with shame as Marcelle interpreted the fiercely 
 indignant account. He could not doubt the act 
 of treachery. It was too much in keeping with 
 what he had seen of the cynical German disregard 
 for all the accepted rules of warfare and the 
 Hague conventions. 
 
 When the car wound up the ascent to the 
 grand gateway of the castle grounds, the duke 
 revived from his half swoon to lucid conscious- 
 ness. This lasted until he had bade all his 
 servants and retainers a kindly farewell and 
 ordered them to seek safety in immediate flight. 
 Though several protested a wish to stay, all 
 obeyed the duke's command except an aged
 
 A Fateful Meeting 265 
 
 couple who had served him since his babyhood. 
 
 Lucy insisted upon lingering to cleanse and 
 rebandage his wound. Two weeks all too full of 
 experience had taught her much about war 
 injuries. She came out to Thorpe with a deep 
 shadow in her eyes. 
 
 " Asleep at last," she murmured. " I gave 
 him a hypodermic to dull that awful pain. He 
 was right about the surgeon. An operation 
 would only hasten the end... Of course you 
 understand I can't go on with you, Lan. I 
 never could look Polly in the face again if I 
 deserted him." 
 
 Thorpe's forehead furrowed anxiously. " How 
 long? " he asked. 
 
 " Anywhere from a few hours to four or five 
 days." 
 
 " Well all right. Suppose I take first shift? 
 You and Marcelle look all gantered up." 
 
 " You're going to Sezanne," asserted Lucy. 
 
 " When I shall have the pleasure of your 
 company," rejoined Thorpe. " Cut out the non- 
 sense, Loo. You saw those trenches the French 
 are digging. They may hold up Von Hausen 
 a day possibly two days; and then, again, 
 they may not. Wouldn't the sensible thing be 
 to take the duke to Sezanne? " 
 
 " He wouldn't last an hour if moved from his 
 home. One who has given his life to his country 
 should have his last wish. Remember, he and 
 Polly loaned me the castle. There was no stint 
 to their hospitality. I must stay with him till 
 the end." 
 
 " Then, for heaven's sake, turn in," growled
 
 266 The Blond Beast 
 
 Thorpe. " Pm some nurse myself. Scoot.'* 
 
 " Don't fourflush, Lan. You're dead on your 
 feet, and don't know it. . .Two nights and a day 
 without sleep ! But I'll rest too. The old servant 
 woman is to sit by him. The hypodermic will 
 keep him quiet several hours." 
 
 Somewhat reluctantly, Thorpe allowed himself 
 to be persuaded. After his first hot bath in a 
 fortnight, he stretched out in an American bed, 
 and did not waken until noon the next day. The 
 duke was mercifully in a semi-comatose condition, 
 from which he roused only to brief moments of 
 pain-tortured consciousness. Thorpe went out to 
 the gate lodge, where Lucy had quartered the 
 Algerians. 
 
 The Turco sergeant was peering with his 
 desert-trained eyes into the northern sky. He 
 uttered a guttural curse and pointed with his 
 swarthy finger. A black speck was floating 
 across the smoky blue of the heat haze. It 
 changed to a line that appeared to stop still in 
 mid-air and thicken. In a few moments Thorpe 
 made out the all-too-well-known outlines of a 
 German taube. The aeroplane was driving 
 straight towards the castle, high above the 
 Marshes of St. Gond. The droning throb of its 
 engine was plainly audible before it wheeled 
 and soared eastward along the French entrench- 
 ments like an angry vulture.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING 
 
 As at Dinant, a Sunday the day of rest and 
 worship saw the gray deluge sweep forward 
 to overwhelm the French lines. First came the 
 scouting patrols and reconnoissance columns, 
 hovered over and led by the guiding aeroplanes. 
 To the west, Van Billow's van was already across 
 the Petit Morin at Montmiral. The Saxon corps 
 dashed forward east of Fere Champenoise, while 
 on their right flank the Prussian Guard flooded 
 down into the Marshes of St. Gond. 
 
 From the front tower of the castle Thorpe 
 could look northwards for miles over the swamp 
 lands below the heights. The air was already 
 rumbling with the distant thunder of cannon. 
 With the aid of the duke's field glasses he could 
 see the spots of smoke from bursting shells 
 spread laterally. The Prussian columns were 
 deploying into battle line as they advanced across 
 the dried clay surface of the marshes. Their 
 field gray remained invisible; but before long 
 Thorpe could make out dark dots and dashes 
 that approached, stopped, and approached irregu- 
 larly. These were the retreating French forces. 
 With them approached the smoke of the shell 
 fire. 
 
 267
 
 268 The Blond Beast 
 
 Thorpe hurried down to inquire the condition 
 of his host. Lucy came out to him, weeping. 
 
 " Oh, Lan, it is so pitiful! " she cried. " He 
 is delirious all the time now and all his talk 
 of la belle France. Not a word for anything 
 else not even for Polly. I'm afraid he can't 
 last much longer." 
 
 " If he knew and had the choice, he'd be glad 
 to go quickly as I would in his place," said 
 Thorpe. " The French are retreating. Think 
 how he will suffer if he survives long enough to 
 know you have been captured because of him. 
 It's now only a question of a few hours at most. 
 I'm going to get out the car and send you to 
 Sezanne with Marcelle." 
 
 " And you? " asked Lucy, her eyes very 
 bright. 
 
 "I'll stay with the duke, of course," 
 
 " Really? I'll fetch your Prussian surgeon's 
 coat. It's in my suitcase." 
 
 " Now you're talking, Loo! You'll start at 
 once? " 
 
 " Don't be silly," she answered. " It was 
 only the way you said you'd stay. . .1 don't care 
 if the Kaiser himself is coming. I shall not 
 leave Polly's husband until he goes." 
 
 Thorpe turned away, bitterly disappointed. 
 Yet he went down to the garage and put in 
 several hours on her car. The servants had 
 loaded the chateau cars and all other convey- 
 ances with the most valuable laces and art glass 
 in the duke's collection and taken them to 
 Sezanne. After carefully overhauling the engine 
 and running gear, Thorpe found a quantity of
 
 Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 269 
 
 paint in the chateau storerooms, and smeared 
 over all the beautifully burnished copper finish 
 of the car body with the symbol of the Bed 
 Cross on a white background. 
 
 While he worked, the cannonading steadily 
 swelled out louder and nearer. He did not stop 
 off a minute to see what was happening. What 
 was the use? He knew Lucy. If the duke were 
 not too long in dying, they would escape. Other- 
 wise they would be taken, together with the 
 chateau or be buried in its ruins. 
 
 The delirious duke still lingered on, as if his 
 spirit could not sever itself from his ancestral 
 home and the soil of his beloved France. Instead 
 of flicking out, it flared strong and clear when, 
 late in the afternoon, the tide of battle spumed 
 up to the heights out of the marsh lands. Parts 
 of two French batteries and several decimated 
 companies toiled up the castle hill and turned 
 to defend it against the massed attack of the 
 Prussians. 
 
 The fight was as brief as it was desperate. 
 From three sides the assailants charged up the 
 slopes, utterly regardless of their terrible punish- 
 ment from the seventy-fives. At the last moment 
 the French infantry covered the withdrawal of 
 the precious batteries by a sacrifice charge that 
 swept down upon the victors and stopped their 
 rush. The guns clattered safely away along the 
 high ground towards Sezanne. 
 
 But by the time the infantry had been driven 
 back up through the gardens, only a handful 
 were left to defend the chateau. As the raging 
 Guards burst the outer doors, Thorpe dashed
 
 270 The Blond Beast 
 
 up the grand stairway to the duke's private 
 suite. On the door of the anteroom he had 
 already chalked in German the words that he 
 had seen on an occasional unburned house north 
 of the Aisne: 
 
 " Good friends within. No harm to them." 
 
 Lucy was waiting at the bedside of the delirious 
 duke with her maid and the frightened old 
 French couple. Hardly had Thorpe joined them 
 and changed to his surgeon's coat when a wild 
 hubbub broke out in the corridor. The unlocked 
 anteroom door flew open. Thorpe sprang to meet 
 the inrush of battle-mad Prussians, with his arms 
 outflung in angry .gestures. 
 
 " Heraus! " he bellowed in German, after the 
 manner of the portly surgeon whose coat he 
 wore. " Numskulls! dolts! Can you not read? 
 'Raus! 'raus! " 
 
 There were no officers with the soldiers. 
 Thorpe's arrogant tone of command, backed by 
 the sight of his surgeon's coat, sent the ven- 
 erators of Authority to the right about. But 
 Thorpe had made out their regimental number. 
 
 " Halt," he ordered. " A corporal's squad 
 to stand guard at the door. Who are your 
 officers? " 
 
 " Captain von Pappheim, Herr Surgeon, and 
 Ober-lieutenant von Kissel. 
 
 " Enough. Find Lieutenant von Kissel. Tell 
 him Herr Dorp would see him." 
 
 All but the guard rushed off to help hunt out 
 and bayonet the remaining French defenders. 
 Thorpe paced the anteroom, fearful lest Von 
 Pappheim might be first to enter. There was
 
 Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 271 
 
 a sudden saluting by the men at the door Kurt 
 rushed in to grasp the outstretched hands of 
 his friend. He was thin, almost haggard, but 
 he had come through all the fighting without a 
 scratch. 
 
 " Allan! " he cried. " You're the last man 
 I expected to see this side of America! " 
 
 " I gave General von Hausen my word not 
 to escape." 
 
 " Then it's true Von Pappheim insisted you 
 had broken parole. But I have the written 
 testimony of the wounded men who saw you 
 forced from the mairie by Turcos, and I have 
 the written parole you gave a major of Turcos. 
 Found it at an inn near Bheims. Though his 
 name is not given ' * 
 
 " Major, the Duke of Montmar," explained 
 Thorpe. " This is his castle. He had previously 
 captured Lucy " 
 
 " Himmel! Don't tell me she is here within 
 our lines? The general is furious over her fail- 
 ure to return and your alleged breaking of 
 parole. ' ' 
 
 " Come and see," said Thorpe. 
 
 At sight of Lucy, the eager young officer ran 
 to greet her; only to stop short, clap on his 
 helmet, and jerk out his pistol. The delirious 
 duke was shouting for his Turcos to charge. 
 Lucy sprang in between. 
 
 " Save your ammunition," she scoffed. " He 
 is dying." 
 
 Kurt blushed crimson and hastened to replace 
 his pistol. 
 
 " Can you think that of me, Lucy? I heard
 
 272 The Blond Beast 
 
 him cry out as I entered, but saw only you." 
 
 The scorn in Lucy's eyes gave place to a look 
 of half-welcome. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Kurt, if I Oh!. . .Etienne " 
 
 The duke had sunk back on his pillows, silent 
 and inert. She darted to his bedside and bent 
 over to make certain he yet lived. 
 
 From the anteroom sounded the muffled tread 
 of heavy feet on the silken rugs. Von Pappheim 
 stalked in, followed by the squad on guard. 
 
 " Good most good, my dear Von Kissel," 
 he mocked. " I see you have trapped the parole 
 breaker and our pretty spy girl. Another 
 decoration for you from the general, nicht? " 
 
 " You are mistaken," rejoined Kurt. " My 
 pleasure has been to release Herr Thorpe, of our 
 Bed Cross service, and my friend Fraulein 
 Carew, both of whom were taken prisoner by 
 this wounded major of Turcos, the Duke of 
 Montmar." 
 
 " Ach, a Turco duke," sneered von Pappheim. 
 " Shall we see if he is shamming? " 
 
 Lucy sought to bar his advance. He rudely 
 shoved her aside and tore the bandages from 
 the gangrened wound of the French officer. The 
 sight shamed even his Superman callousness. 
 
 " Pfui! it is far gone! " he sought to hide 
 his disconcertion. 
 
 White with horror of what he had done, Lucy 
 sought with quivering hands to re-dress the 
 wound. Thorpe choked down his rage and 
 loathing. 
 
 " Herr Count, speaking to you as an officer 
 and a nobleman, on behalf of this French officer
 
 Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 273 
 
 of high birth, may I request that a guard be 
 given Miss Carew while she nurses him through 
 his last hours? " 
 
 Von Pappheim glanced down sideways at 
 Lucy's graceful figure, scowled at Marcelle and 
 the cringing old servant couple, stared around 
 the bedchamber, and smiled with unwonted 
 suavity. 
 
 " All shall remain as now, only you shall 
 rejoin your hospital unit," he replied. 
 
 " Certainly," agreed Thorpe. 
 
 The captain brusquely signed him to come out 
 with Kurt, and posted the guard as before. 
 But instead of leaving the chateau, he ordered 
 the old servants to prepare the best dinner that 
 the larder could furnish. While they hurried to 
 obey, he checked the indiscriminate looting of 
 the chateau and directed the efforts of his sol- 
 diers to an orderly and thorough pillage. 
 
 When plates had been laid for four with the 
 magnificent historical ducal service of Montmar, 
 he gave Thorpe a suave invitation for Lucy to 
 dine with them. Fortunately the duke was still 
 in a coma. Lucy yielded to Thorpe 's argument 
 that Von Pappheim would force her to the table 
 if she refused to come voluntarily. 
 
 Throughout dinner she was as warmly gracious 
 to the delighted Kurt as she was chillingly polite 
 to his superior officer. Thorpe felt no little 
 perplexity when he saw the captain become still 
 more suave over Lucy's continued coldness. The 
 champagne was of the priceless vintage of 
 'ninety-three, but even that could not explain the 
 unwonted urbanity and composure with which
 
 274 The Blond Beast 
 
 the arrogant Prussian officer conducted himself. 
 
 Kurt became as uneasy as Thorpe. When Lucy 
 excused herself to return to her patient, the 
 young officer rather ostentatiously handed her 
 a gold-inlaid little automatic pistol that had been 
 found in the pillaging. 
 
 " To use in case one of our men becomes intox- 
 icated and seeks to bother you," he said. 
 
 Von Pappheim 's look of chagrin betrayed the 
 dark purpose that the pistol was apt to frustrate. 
 With difficulty Thorpe masked his cold fury 
 behind a pretense of banter 
 
 * ' What a libel on our kultured goose-steppers ! 
 But Kurt and I shall take the lounge in the 
 anteroom to guard you against a return of the 
 effete French." 
 
 Now far from bland, Von Pappheim shoved 
 back his chair and went out, leaving his last 
 glass of champagne untouched. 
 
 Throughout the night Thorpe and Kurt took 
 turns on watch in the anteroom. 
 
 Morning found the duke still alive; and Von 
 Pappheim had no excuse to linger at the chateau 
 while the renewed battle advanced towards 
 Sezanne. He took with him Thorpe and Kurt 
 and most of the men, but left a detail to see 
 that Lucy did not escape. They were also 
 instructed to begin shipment of the loot in the 
 Bed Cross motor-vans that had followed the 
 battle line across the marshes. 
 
 To the west, advanced columns had already 
 penetrated south beyond the Grand Morin. To 
 the east, desperate fighting had driven the 
 French back from around Fere Champenoise.
 
 Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 275 
 
 But between these extremes the tremendous 
 Prussian rush had been checked by the French 
 on the heights of Sezanne, back of Montmar. 
 
 When the laggards came up, their regiment 
 was already trying to drive a half regiment of 
 French out of a grove. Von Pappheim was 
 ordered to flank with his company. A motor 
 ambulance was detailed to follow the party. 
 Thorpe left Kurt and went to join the Red Cross 
 men. But he was not invited to ride in the 
 ambulance, the doors of which remained inhos- 
 pitably closed. 
 
 Hardly had the company rounded into the 
 potato field at the end of the wood, when a 
 volley of shots came flying from a company of 
 French infantry of the Line, three or four hun- 
 dred feet ahead. Thorpe followed the ambulance 
 as it wheeled out from the left flank of the 
 deploying company. The French flattened on 
 the ground. The Prussians had lost only two 
 or three men, owing to the poor aim of their 
 enemies. But, instead of charging, all promptly 
 stretched prone at the command of Von Papp- 
 heim, who was the first man down. 
 
 There followed a furious exchange of rifle fire, 
 each side shooting many hundreds of rounds 
 within a few minutes. Thorpe looked on openly 
 from beside the rear of the ambulance, for not 
 a single shot was fired by the French at the Red 
 Cross. So far as he could see, few if any more 
 Prussians were struck. But the more conspicu- 
 ously uniformed French appeared to suffer sev- 
 eral casualties. 
 
 After the fusillade had continued for over a
 
 276 The Blond Beast 
 
 quarter hour, the French suddenly leaped up and 
 charged. To Thorpe's amazement, the Prussians 
 stood erect and began to give back. Their rapid 
 firing dropped a few more men in the already 
 ragged French line. But their withdrawal 
 brought the gallant attackers on with redoubled 
 ardor. 
 
 The retreating Prussians were thirty yards or 
 more back of their first position when the pant- 
 ing, yelling, bayonet-brandishing, fiercely tri- 
 umphant French came in line with the ambulance. 
 The doors of the van of Mercy flew open. Out 
 of its yawning rear poured a leaden jet of 
 machine-gun bullets. 
 
 Under that frightful enfilading fire the French 
 went down almost in a windrow, most of them 
 pitching prone on their faces. Of all their num- 
 ber, five alone staggered through the treacherous 
 hail of death to the line of their gloating enemies. 
 They were surrounded and stabbed from all sides. 
 Other Prussians rushed forward to bayonet the 
 wounded. 
 
 A few moments, and the last Frenchman was 
 murdered. At a sharp command from Von 
 Pappheim, the Bed Cross machine gunners closed 
 the doors of the ambulance. It wheeled around 
 with the company to drive into the wood on the 
 now unguarded flank of the larger French force. 
 Thorpe did not follow. He had leaned up 
 against a tree, sickened by the black treachery 
 of the machine-gun in the ambulance and by the 
 slaughter of the wounded. 
 
 In the rush for the new attack, no one paid 
 any heed to him or to the few Prussian casualties.
 
 Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 277 
 
 But as the hurrahing of the victors became muf- 
 fled by the trees, he heard a faint voice calling 
 his name. Half reluctantly he started out along 
 the ghastly line of butchered French. The call 
 was repeated. This time he recognized the voice, 
 and dashed on across to the far end of the line. 
 
 Kurt was lying where he had fallen at the 
 first volley of the French. There was a bullet 
 wound clean through the top of his chest, under 
 his right shoulder. By rare good fortune, the 
 bullet had entered without striking the collar 
 bone, and not having been upset, had come out 
 through the shoulder blade with a far less gaping 
 exit than usual with such wounds. 
 
 After binding up the injury, Thorpe clasped 
 Kurt's left arm over his own shoulder and got 
 him up. With frequent rests, they managed to 
 stagger back towards the chateau.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 WINE AND WOMAN 
 
 In the loot-heaped courtyard of the chateau 
 Lucy stood among her own trunks and several 
 more of Duchess Polly's, while a soldier labeled 
 them with Kurt's name and home address in 
 Berlin. The man finished, set down his brush 
 and pot of marking fluid, pocketed the fat fee 
 offered by Lucy, and went off to help his fellows. 
 Lucy took the brush and began substituting 
 Kurt's address on the boxes of ducal plate land 
 rare enamels that Von Pappheim had marked 
 as his own especial loot. The guards were too 
 hard at work helping Bed Cross motormen load 
 the plunder to notice the changing of names. 
 
 The girl's clever ruse to salvage a small part 
 of her friend's property from the vandals was 
 interrupted by a cry for help. Thorpe came 
 reeling and staggering into the courtyard with 
 Kurt on his back. Overcome by loss of blood, 
 the young officer fainted as a pair of Red Cross 
 drivers ran to take him in their arms. On the 
 way into the chateau Thorpe managed to recover 
 breath enough to gasp an appeal: 
 
 " Loo won't you be good to him for my 
 sake and Elsa's? You know how he loves 
 
 you." 
 
 278
 
 Wine and Woman 279 
 
 " You ask that you? " cried Lucy. 
 
 " Of course! I It was here you helped me 
 win Elsa made me happy ! I want to see Kurt 
 happy You, too, Loo ! . . . Kurt is a thorough- 
 bred. And he worships the ground you tread on. 
 Won't you listen to him, Loo? " 
 
 Lucy's head had drooped forward. Her down- 
 bent gaze wavered and slowly lifted, just high 
 enough to take in Kurt's backward sagging head 
 and pallid face. 
 
 "I'll I'll see," she murmured. 
 
 Within a few minutes they managed, between 
 them, to sterilize and pack the wound. Kurt 
 revived to feverish consciousness. At sight of 
 Lucy bending over him, the blue of his eyes 
 deepened into violet. 
 
 ^Liebe fraulein! Hebe fraulein! " he whis- 
 pered his adoration. " You will not leave me? " 
 
 " Etienne is in the next room," she soothed. 
 " I shall care for you both." 
 
 He clasped her hand and drew it to his lips. 
 Thorpe quietly went out. In the courtyard he 
 found that the busy pillagers had brought around 
 Lucy's redecorated car and were loading it with 
 loot. 
 
 " Stop," he ordered. " This car is reserved 
 for officers' use." 
 
 " Who are you to command? " growled a ser- 
 geant. " Herr Captain has told you have no 
 authority." 
 
 " Tell him of this order," rejoined Thorpe. 
 " I speak for Lieutenant von Kissel." 
 
 Though surly and reluctant, the men unloaded 
 the car. Thorpe next noticed the trunks with
 
 280 The Blond Beast 
 
 Lucy's initials, addressed to Kurt. He per- 
 ceived the ruse, and in Kurt's name commanded 
 other boxes to be marked the same. From Berlin 
 the salvaged loot could, in time, be shipped to 
 Duchess Polly in America, 
 
 Along with this idea Thorpe thought out a 
 far more vital scheme. At the least, Kurt was 
 out of the fighting for a month or more. Why 
 not slip away north with him while Von Papp- 
 heim was still fighting? Lucy could go in the 
 role of nurse. Once clear of the captain and 
 General von Hausen, Kurt might get her over the 
 Holland frontier before her flight could be traced. 
 
 When he told the plan to Kurt and Lucy, 
 both thought it perfect. The only obstacle was 
 Lucy's unshaken determination to remain at the 
 chateau until the death of the duke And he, 
 though now almost constantly in the ominous 
 coma that was so like death, continued to linger 
 on, as if unable to die while the fate of France 
 still hung in the balance. 
 
 Another day passed in this state of dread and 
 suspense. All the strength of the magnificent 
 Imperial Guard was now being exerted to hack 
 a way over the heights of Sezanne. The Prus- 
 sians hurled themselves forward to the attack 
 both day and night. Yet somehow their most 
 desperate massed charges failed to break through 
 the half -dug French entrenchments on the plateau 
 back of Montmar. 
 
 The chagrined assailants reported that Foch 
 must have concentrated the larger part of his 
 small army along the line west of Fere Champe- 
 noise. This was apparently confirmed by the
 
 Wine and Woman 281 
 
 return report that the enemy was giving back 
 on his right wing all the way to the Camp de 
 Mailly. Then the center bowed back south of 
 Fere Champenoise. 
 
 During the night of the eighth, word was 
 received that the grand massed assaults at Nancy, 
 under the eye of the Kaiser himself, had broken 
 down with a toll of fifty thousand German lives. 
 But, as offset, the surprise attack on Von Kluck's 
 flank by a new French army and the garrison 
 of Paris, had been met and held. All the German 
 armies along the hundred and ninety mile battle 
 front to Verdun were holding the French until 
 Von Hausen should burst on through the buck- 
 ling, crumbling center of the wall of defense. 
 
 No more was now asked of the Guard regi- 
 ments deployed before Sezanne than that they 
 should continue to hold Foch's left wing. Their 
 own left and the Saxons would rush on over 
 Foch's defeated center and right, which were 
 still retreating. . .All the quarter-million fighters 
 of Von Hausen 's picked army were absolutely 
 certain that victory was in their grasp. 
 
 In accord with this general conviction, Von 
 Pappheim returned to the chateau to bathe and 
 dine. So many officers had been killed or dis- 
 abled that he was now the acting commander of 
 the regiment, and could direct his own move- 
 ments. He ordered Lucy to the table. Kurt 
 tottered in with her, his uninjured arm clasped 
 about her neck. 
 
 The tender care with which she seated her 
 patient and proceeded to wait upon him won 
 a stare of jealous anger from the captain. But
 
 282 
 
 he was too ravenous to more than interject into 
 the conversation an occasional sneer at the 
 French, and boast how soon the delayed Sedan 
 Day should now be celebrated in Paris. He 
 washed down the savory food with steinfuls of 
 the rare 'ninety-three champagne and the still 
 more rare old port that poured like liquid rubies. 
 
 A field telephone had been brought back to 
 the chateau. After gorging his fill, Von Papp- 
 heim flung back his chair and went to communi- 
 cate with the. front. He returned to order a bed 
 prepared for himself. Later Thorpe saw him 
 lead a squad of pioneers into the private office 
 at the end of the duke's suite. After a few 
 minutes the walls and floors of the chateau 
 shook with a detonation as violent as that of a 
 three-inch shell. 
 
 Thorpe rushed to discover the cause. He 
 found Von Pappheim in the act of ransacking 
 a chilled steel vault, which the unskilled pillagers 
 had for days vainly tried to drill and blow open. 
 Gold, silver, family jewels, bonds, banknotes 
 all were thrust into a suitcase by the titled thief. 
 Having skimmed the cream, Von Pappheim began 
 to glance over and tear up the duke's deeds and 
 other non-negotiable papers. 
 
 In the midst he came upon a bulky envelope 
 addressed to the duke by Lucy. On the packet 
 was written a condition that it was not to be 
 opened unless the duke learned she was being 
 treated as a spy by the German secret service. 
 
 The first glance at the envelope's contents 
 brought a look of cruel gloating into Von Papp- 
 heim 's drink-flushed hatchet face. He rushed out
 
 Wine and Woman 283 
 
 so hurriedly that he left the unlocked suitcase on 
 the vault floor and failed to notice Thorpe in the 
 shadowed corner behind the pioneers. 
 
 These engineers belonged to a reserve regi- 
 ment, and were all strangers to Thorpe. With 
 a curt command for them to make way, he 
 elbowed through their midst, shut and locked the 
 suitcase, and smiled condescendingly. 
 
 " Enough, my good men. I will attend to the 
 herr captain's property. You will immediately 
 rejoin your company." 
 
 They saw the number of Von Pappheim's regi- 
 ment on the surgeon's coat, and marched off 
 like the well-drilled automatons they were. Their 
 company was two or three miles away. Thorpe 
 transferred all the contents of the suitcase, except 
 the silver, to a strong-box. Leaving the suitcase 
 and silver in the vault, he carried the coffer out 
 to the garage, carefully painted on it Kurt's 
 name and home address, and locked it in the 
 car trunk. All this passed unnoticed. The 
 chateau guards, as he knew, were intoxicated with 
 champagne. 
 
 He returned into the chateau and found Von 
 Pappheim seated with Lucy and Kurt at the 
 dinner table. By the simple process of dumping, 
 the cloth and service had been cleared off to 
 make room for a stack of wine bottles. Lucy was 
 scornfully defiant, Von Pappheim leering like a 
 satyr, Kurt pale with dread and indignation. 
 
 " Come on in, Lan," called Lucy. " You're 
 just in time to hear the joke. The noble count 
 has stolen my snapshots and is using them to 
 blackmail me into marrying him."
 
 284 The Blond Beast 
 
 The cap tain's leer hardened into a menacing 
 glare. 
 
 " You will do well to curb your poisoned 
 tongue, my pretty frau- to-be," he advised. 
 ' * Were it not that beauty shows best in a golden 
 frame, I would take you now, without waiting 
 for a wedding. Consider the choice I have 
 offered To be upraised into the high position 
 of Countess von Pappheim, or shot as a convicted 
 spy." 
 
 Lucy's scorn flared. " By all means the lesser 
 evil! How soon can you order out your firing 
 squad? " 
 
 " I do not jest, fraulein," warned Von Papp- 
 heim, the tushes of his mustache bristling. 
 
 " Well, you are quite sufficiently ridiculous 
 when you fancy that any girl could bring herself 
 to marry you if she has the choice of dying 
 instead. ' ' 
 
 Kurt leaned forward, his normally mild blue 
 eyes half starting from their sockets. 
 
 " This matter is personal with me, Herr Cap- 
 tain. I shall lay it before a court of honor. 
 You insult and abuse the lady whom I have asked 
 to become my wife. If you prefer not to wait 
 for the court, I will meet you with pistols at 
 dawn or immediately." 
 
 Von Pappheim smiled cynically. 
 
 " I have not forgotten your mutinous refusal 
 to obey my orders at the hospital where I first 
 caught this spy-woman. You see, my pretty 
 girl, I have another card or two. You will now 
 agree to marry me, or your lover shall stand 
 with you before the firing squad."
 
 Wine and Woman 285 
 
 " You coward! " cried Lucy. 
 
 " Soon you shall be calling me your hero, 
 liebe fraulein. If you find the word difficult, I 
 will teach it to you with my dog whip." 
 
 Thorpe stepped around to lean over Lucy's 
 shoulder and gaze straight into the threatener's 
 glaring eyes. 
 
 " I dislike to soil my hands, Herr Count. But 
 I fear it will be necessary, if you do not apologize 
 to Miss Carew." 
 
 Von Pappheim's hand dropped with the wine 
 glass it was raising and flicked up with his pistol. 
 
 " Who is the coward? " he taunted. " You 
 stand behind the fraulein." 
 
 " My fault," thrust back Thorpe. " I forgot 
 how at that chateau beyond Dinant your poor 
 aim killed not only the chatelaine but her young 
 daughter. ' ' 
 
 The captain pointed his pistol. " This time I 
 will take better aim." 
 
 Lucy twisted out of her chair, to spring up on 
 its seat before Thorpe. 
 
 " No! no! no! " she screamed. " You shall 
 not! He has done nothing! Shoot me me! 
 Don't hurt him! " 
 
 A look of exultant enlightenment glinted in 
 Von Pappheim's cruel eyes. He lowered the 
 pistol and smiled with mock geniality. 
 
 " Ach! Now I begin to see," he said. " Now 
 I have an argument that shall persuade my liebe 
 fraulein nichtf ' ' 
 
 ' ' You you unutterable cad ! ' ' sobbed Lucy, 
 and she drooped like a wilting flower. 
 
 Von Pappheim turned to smile mockingly at
 
 286 The Blond Beast 
 
 Kurt. Instantly Thorpe flung himself down 
 around Lucy's chair and heaved up the end of 
 the table. The downward cascading wine bottles 
 disconcerted the aim of Von Pappheim's up- 
 jerked pistol. Before he could fire, the edge of 
 the table was on his knees and the top tilting up 
 to topple against him. He saved himself from 
 being smashed backwards with his chair only by 
 dropping his pistol to wrench the table sideways. 
 
 As the table crashed down, Thorpe fell on his 
 hands and knees before the upleaping captain. 
 He plunged forward to seize the pistol, which 
 was lying among the shattered wine bottles. Von 
 Pappheim could have whipped out his sword and 
 slashed his unexpected assailant. But, flurried 
 for perhaps the first time in his life, he dashed 
 for the door. He was outside before Thorpe 
 could scramble up and level the pistol. 
 
 " Oh oh Lan ! ' ' gasped Lucy. ' * You 're 
 hurt! Your hands! " 
 
 Thorpe glanced down. 
 
 " That? Only the port wine. May be a little 
 cut or two. But I sure have messed the situation. 
 How about it, Kurt? " 
 
 " Badly," agreed Kurt, who had jumped to 
 place himself before Lucy. " He will return 
 with a squad. There is only one chance now. 
 Lucy, give me your pledge to marry me. Later 
 you may recall it, if you wish, but now you must 
 become my betrothed." 
 
 The girl stepped down from her chair and 
 looked from him to Thorpe with widening eyes. 
 " Do you really think it would would save 
 Lan and you? " she inquired.
 
 Wine and Woman 287 
 
 11 All of us just a chance, but the only one," 
 said Kurt firmly. 
 
 " I'll go out and pot the tow-headed beast 
 before he can sic his war dogs on us," proposed 
 Thorpe. " Even if they get me for it, Kurt, the 
 coast will then be clear for you to make a get- 
 away with Loo." 
 
 * * No no, wait ! You sha 'n 't go, Lan ! ' ' cried 
 the girl. " I I '11 accept Kurt 's offer. If you 
 want me, Kurt, with only what I can give you 
 now and if you really believe it will will 
 save us." 
 
 " My ring quick! " urged the young officer. 
 
 Lucy drew off the emerald ring that sparkled 
 on the little finger of his outstretched left hand. 
 She slipped it upon her engagement finger. 
 
 " Now we are betrothed," he said. " Into the 
 duke's room with her, Allan. Bolt the far door. 
 If I do not turn them back, try to shoot your 
 way out. If that is impossible, kill her before 
 permitting her to fall into his hands." 
 
 " Of course," agreed Thorpe. 
 
 He rushed the unresisting girl into the ducal 
 chamber, secured the far door, and ran back to 
 stand with Von Pappheim's pistol beside the 
 half-closed door into the anteroom. He saw Kurt 
 seated on Lucy's chair, facing the outer entrance. 
 
 There was a tramping of heavy feet outside 
 in the rug-looted corridor. The squad of guards 
 marched in with fixed bayonets. Behind them 
 Von Pappheim peered cautiously into the ante- 
 room. Seeing only his wounded lieutenant, he 
 stepped in after his men. 
 
 Kurt called out, very distinctly and rapidly, in
 
 288 The Blond Beast 
 
 a tone of sharp command: " Halt! Look, men, 
 at that spilled wine, the bottles and table. The 
 herr captain drank himself into delirium. He is 
 wine-mad. He imagines ' ' 
 
 " Gott! " swore Von Pappheim. " Shoot down 
 the mutinous schweinhund, you dolts! Take 
 aim ' ' 
 
 Up swung every rifle of the squad, with 
 mechanical precision. But Kurt's finger was 
 pointing at the Iron Cross on his left breast. 
 
 " Auf! " he commanded. " Salute the Cross 
 placed here by the High Commander." 
 
 " Fire! " yelled Von Pappheim. 
 
 The soldiers, caught with rifles jerking down 
 to the position of present arms, hesitated like 
 marionettes whose strings are crossed. 
 
 " Auf! " repeated Kurt, rising severely erect. 
 " A mad officer has no authority. I command 
 here. About face March." 
 
 The men feared their martinet captain as much 
 as they hated him. But they loved their lieuten- 
 ant, and they had seen the High Commander pin 
 that Iron Cross on his breast. His cool, stern 
 tone and bearing were more authoritative than 
 his superior's furious repetition of the order to 
 fire. The squad faced about. Speechless with 
 rage, Von Pappheim cut down the nearest man 
 with a slash of his sword. The others, rattled 
 and panic-stricken, bolted past him out into the 
 corridor. He advanced across the room with his 
 reddened sword ready to strike. 
 
 Kurt deliberately drew his pistol. 
 
 " You will be well advised to sheathe your 
 sword, Herr Captain," he remarked in a very
 
 Wine and Woman 289 
 
 quiet tone. " I am prepared to answer for this 
 before a court martial, and to make counter 
 charges against you. I now have witnesses to 
 bear out my belief that you have become frenzied 
 from drink. If you attempt any more violence, 
 I shall feel justified in shooting you down like 
 a mad dog." 
 
 The extreme quietness with which this was 
 spoken convinced Von Pappheim that his under 
 officer was in deadly earnest. He slammed his 
 sword into its scabbard and gave back towards 
 the door. 
 
 " Gottl ' he muttered. " Who commands 
 shall be seen! " 
 
 " One moment, if you please, Herr Captain. 
 You are covered by another pistol. Do you 
 wish to stand here before it while I telephone 
 to our fellow officers how a certain captain of 
 the Guard was disarmed by a tableful of wine 
 bottles? " 
 
 The threat of ridicule was far harder for 
 the arrogant count to face than the menace 
 of death. He smothered his rage. 
 
 " Your terms? " he demanded. 
 
 " Delivery of my betrothed and my friend, 
 unharmed, to General von Hausen, and refer- 
 ence of our own difficulties to a court of honor; 
 meantime fair treatment and no violence to 
 the three of us." 
 
 " Your betrothed? " sneered Von Pappheim. 
 
 " The fraulein has accepted my proposal of 
 marriage. Permit me to thank you for your 
 part in the forming of her decision. With 
 regard to the terms: Are they acceptable to
 
 290 The Blond Beast 
 
 you, or am I to have the pleasure of tele- 
 phoning our regiment about the campaign of 
 the champagne bottles! " 
 
 The pill was bitter. Von Pappheim hesi- 
 tated. " What assurance have I that no men- 
 tion 'will be made of that unselig incident? " 
 
 " My word as an officer," replied Kurt. " You 
 accept the terms? " 
 
 " Ja! " The monosyllable exploded like a 
 curse. 
 
 " Your most binding pledge," exacted Kurt. 
 
 Von Pappheim 's face purpled. Yet after 
 only a moment he spat out venomously: " I 
 give my word of honor as an officer and 
 nobleman." 
 
 Kurt bowed with unfeigned gravity. 
 
 " The gracious word of Herr Captain, Count 
 Wolf von Pappheim, is accepted." 
 
 Most ungraciously Von Pappheim turned his 
 back and stalked out, absurdly like the balked 
 villain of a melodrama. The pistol clattered 
 on the floor beside Kurt's chair as he slumped 
 down. 
 
 Lucy came darting from the inner chamber, 
 to bend down beside him and clasp his limp 
 hand. Without looking up at Thorpe, who was 
 gripping his uninjured shoulder, she cried out 
 breathlessly : 
 
 " Splendid, Kurt, splendid! If you wish, you 
 may may ' > 
 
 Her lips offered themselves for the betrothal 
 kiss. Thorpe abruptly faced away and hur- 
 ried across to close and bolt the corridor door.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 On the morning of September the ninth, that 
 most fateful Wednesday in all the history of 
 France, the dank, foggy night was followed by 
 a deluge of cold rain. The caked surface clay 
 of the Marshes of St. Gond quickly melted to 
 mire, which was in turn liquified into bog by 
 the flood freshets that poured down from the 
 drenched heights and slopes. 
 
 Soon after dawn Lucy roused up and went 
 in to relieve the watch of her maid at the 
 bedside of the duke. All night he had lain 
 so completely sunk in the fatal coma that only 
 the slight haze on a .mirror held to his lips 
 told that he was still alive. 
 
 Yet hardly had Lucy sent Marcelle to rest 
 when the sunken eyes of the dying man flicked 
 open. They stared up past Lucy, bright with 
 the eager, probing look of one who sees or 
 hears some wondro-us event. A moment of 
 expectancy, and they flamed with wildly exult- 
 ant ardor. The strength of delirium wrenched 
 that torpor-deadened body to a sitting position. 
 The right arm flung up and outward. The blue- 
 white lips parted, in a fiercely joyous shout 
 of attack: 
 
 291
 
 292 The Blond Beast 
 
 " En avant! En avant! A bos les Baches! 
 Vive la France! Vive " 
 
 The cry broke short in a gasp and rattle 
 all too familiar to Lucy. The convulsive up- 
 straightened body dropped back on the pillows, 
 leaden and inert. Thorpe rushed in and found 
 Lucy stooped to close the staring dark eyes 
 that would never again flash with ardor for 
 la patrie. Her own eyes were brimming with 
 tears of compassion. 
 
 " Oh, Lan, to think he should go like this 
 and Polly not here! " 
 
 " He's past suffering now, thank God," 
 replied Thorpe. " You've done all you could. . . 
 Must think of yourself now. Jump lively. I'll 
 turn out Kurt and get up the car top. Bundle 
 up well. It's a cold rain." 
 
 Lucy shivered. " Needn't tell me. But 
 Etienne 1 ? The way they are thrown together 
 in ditches! There must be a grave where Polly 
 can find it and a coffin of some kind." 
 
 Thorpe's jaw tightened. But he hastened off, 
 with no attempt to reason against this new 
 condition. Sentiment and a woman's will are 
 beyond reason or above it. He roused Kurt 
 with the news and ventured out into the cor- 
 ridor. Loud snores drew him to the open 
 door of a once resplendent bedchamber, now 
 littered ankle-deep with Duchess Polly's toilet 
 sets and silk hosiery, bric-a-brac, pictures, and 
 lacy lingerie. 7 Empty wine bottles were strewn 
 beside the stately canopied bed, upon which 
 Von Pappheim lay with his spurs entangled in 
 the silk coverlet.
 
 Besieged 293 
 
 Here was promise of escape in spite of Lucy's 
 delay. Thorpe ran down to the first floor of 
 the chateau. All about the looted, smashed, 
 denied suites, numbers of lightly wounded Prus- 
 sians were carousing on champagne and port, 
 or lying, like their commander, in a drunken 
 stupor. By diligent search, Thorpe found a 
 few men not too intoxicated to work. Some 
 he set to knocking together a coffin from a 
 square grand piano not made in Germany 
 that had been gutted by the successors of Bee- 
 thoven and Wagner. 
 
 Chance brought Thorpe and his grave dig- 
 gers out into the chill rain-drenched little rose 
 garden where, only a month and a half before, 
 under the golden sun of July, he had won the 
 love of his Gold Elsie. There was still a pro- 
 fusion of roses, but the full-blown ones had 
 been pelted to pieces, and even the young buds 
 drooped sadly under the weeping sky. 
 
 Thorpe paused at the spot where Elsa had 
 made the sweet confession of her love. The 
 soldier grave-diggers took his halting as a signal 
 to fall to work. They promptly thrust in 
 their spades and began to fling the muddied 
 soil on the nearest rose bushes. The act 
 affected Thorpe like the desecration of a shrine, 
 but it was under way before he could inter- 
 fere. He started to order the men to another 
 place, hesitated, and walked off, with head 
 downbent. After all, what was the difference? 
 He had won Elsa. She was waiting for him 
 in Berlin. The only thing that mattered now 
 was to get to her and save Lucy.
 
 294 The Blond Beast 
 
 Brief as had been his absence in the garden, 
 his return into the chateau found the drunken 
 carousal of the soldiers transformed into a 
 bedlam of fear and hate. The non-commissioned 
 officers and the least drunken of the men were 
 beating and kicking the others and pounding 
 the insteps of the sodden sleepers. There could 
 be only one explanation for such an interrup- 
 tion of the debauch. 
 
 Thorpe dashed through the mob and up the 
 grand stairway. At the top he met a double 
 squad that came hurrying with Kurt and Lucy 
 in their midst. He too was caught and swept 
 along to the room into which the field telephone 
 had been brought. Von Pappheim, with his 
 tow head dripping from a plunge in cold water 
 and his face livid with rage, was shouting com- 
 mands into the transmitter. He lowered the 
 instrument and twisted about to glare at the 
 newcomers. 
 
 " The French have struck! " divined Thorpe. 
 " Your forces are being driven back! " 
 
 Von Pappheim sprang up, aflame with rage 
 and shame. 
 
 ' ' You schweirihund! to taunt at such a time ! 
 Gott strafe 11 
 
 11 Hold! " broke in Kurt. " You gave your 
 word. This alarm?. . .What report " 
 
 " What? what? Gott im Himmel! The ver- 
 dammt French apes are too big fools to know 
 they are defeated. They have come jumping 
 down at our lines like maniacs. Already the 
 Guard is giving ground. No wonder, when on 
 our right the Turco devils are chasing Billow's
 
 Besieged 295 
 
 Hanoverians to the Petit Morin. We are 
 flanked." 
 
 " But to the east? " cried Kurt. 
 
 "No word from the Saxons... Yet what to 
 expect! Through all our left wing the mad 
 dogs are biting like knives through cheese. 
 SchrecklichI " 
 
 Lucy's eyes had widened with awed won- 
 derment. 
 
 " Etienne! " she exclaimed. " He must have 
 known he must have seen a vision of it... 
 Dying all but dead... Yet to rouse up shout 
 the charge call to his soldiers!. . .Yes, yes, 
 he knew! " 
 
 " I heard," muttered Thorpe, more than half 
 convinced that the dying man had received a 
 telepathic message of the French assault. "Herr 
 Captain, you speak as if the chateau may soon 
 be under fire. Give leave for Lieutenant von 
 Kissel to escort Miss Carew out of danger." 
 
 Von Pappheim's mustache tushes curved in 
 towards his big, thin nose. 
 
 " Nein. The terms to which I agreed have 
 no reference to an attack by the enemy. My 
 orders are to hold the chateau to the last man. 
 My back-falling regiment is to be our garrison." 
 
 He turned to snap out a command in Ger- 
 man: " Sergeant, return these prisoners to their 
 quarters. Watch them with utmost care." 
 
 Back in the duke's private suite, under heavy 
 guard, Thorpe's lips tightened at the bitter 
 thought that they might now be whirling away 
 towards the Marne if Lucy had not insisted 
 upon delaying for the burial. And as it was,
 
 296 The Blond Beast 
 
 the delay had failed to win that for which she 
 had given up their chance of escape. The 
 guards refused even Kurt's request that the 
 half-finished coffin be brought in, and Captain 
 von Pappheim was far too busy planning the 
 defenses of the chateau to heed any messages. 
 
 The eagle-nosed count was as skillful and 
 determined as he was remorseless. From the 
 side windows of the suite the prisoners glimpsed 
 soldiers rapidly but methodically felling the 
 ornamental trees and shrubs of the beautiful 
 chateau gardens to form barricades and chevaux- 
 de-frise. 
 
 Wounded men began to stream back from the 
 front. Every one of them able to handle an ax 
 or pick or spade was set to work and task- 
 driven with merciless rigor. 
 
 By noon the back-hurled flood of invasion 
 was beginning to seethe and eddy about the 
 chateau. Von Pappheim gathered in the few 
 batteries that came his way, and did his utmost 
 to obtain reinforcements for the remnants of 
 his regiment that had managed to win back 
 before the fury of the French charges. But 
 in the wild confusion of the retreat, that was 
 already half rout, all lines of communication 
 were broken, and not a single officer or man 
 would stay behind who had other choice. 
 
 The war storm first broke upon the chateau 
 ' in a volley of shrapnel shells from the plateau 
 towards Sezanne. Then came preliminary gushes 
 of the blue-coated French infantry, interspersed 
 with detachments of Turcos. The main front 
 of the Imperial Guard had already been driven
 
 Besieged 297 
 
 down into the valleys on each side of the castle. 
 
 Time after time the out-peering prisoners saw 
 thin lines of the blue-coated, red-legged assail- 
 ants rush up over the round of the chateau 
 hill and charge forward through the shell-torn 
 gardens until the last man fell before the Prus- 
 sian rifles and machine-guns .. .And still other 
 lines some light-blue, some mustard yellow 
 came leaping to the Rendezvous of Death. The 
 hail of shrapnel steadily increased as the French 
 brought up more batteries of their fearful 
 seventy-fives. 
 
 By mid-afternoon the action was so hot that 
 the men guarding the prisoners were called 
 away to meet a particularly strong assault. 
 At the same time the seventy-fives began to 
 intersperse their shrapnel with high explosive 
 shells aimed at the chateau. The cowering old 
 servant couple only too willingly obeyed Kurt's 
 command to lead Lucy and her maid down 
 into the lowermost cellars. Kurt saw to their 
 safety, and then joined Thorpe in the south- 
 west tower. 
 
 Below the tower the gardens extended down 
 and out upon the broad saddle that connected 
 the promontory hill with the main plateau. 
 Here was centered the main attack of the furi- 
 ous assailants. As Kurt ran to kneel and peer 
 down over the sill of the window, side by side 
 with Thorpe, a line of Turcos, already riddled 
 by machine-gun fire, was leaping the outer brush 
 barrier of the Prussians, knives flourishing and 
 bayonets ready to lunge. The defenders sprang 
 back and braced themselves in close ranks, only
 
 298 The Blond Beast 
 
 to have their line shattered by the terrific 
 shock of the Africans. Some stood and fought. 
 The greater number fled in wild panic. At 
 their backs bounded the screaming Turco pan- 
 thers, lunging and slashing. 
 
 Close before the inner line of defense, enfilad- 
 ing machine-guns burst into terrific action. The 
 surviving Guard fugitives were slaughtered with 
 the Turcos. But a blue wave of bearded Ter- 
 ritorials was already breaking over the unde- 
 fended outer barrier. The sturdy Frenchmen, 
 driven back a hundred and fifty miles from their 
 frontier, beaten for weeks, assaulted for two 
 days by vastly superior numbers, now dashed 
 at the vaunted Imperial Guards with all the 
 elan of those first shouters of the Marseillaise 
 who smashed back the invading Prussians on 
 the bloody field of Valmy in 1792. 
 
 A chance high-explosive shell splashed one 
 bastion-nest of machine-guns. The murderous 
 fire of the other succeeded in mowing down 
 only half the new assailants. What was left 
 of the blue line surged over the inner breast- 
 work and trench and struck the defenders with 
 frightful impact. Though superior in numbers, 
 the Guards gave back before the desperate fury 
 of the Territorials. They would have broken, 
 had not reserves rushed out from the chateau 
 to stiffen their ranks and swarm around the 
 flanks of the assailants. Not a prisoner was 
 taken. Every Frenchman fought with patriotic 
 frenzy until pierced through and through by 
 the Prussian bayonets. 
 
 Thorpe heard Kurt's awed cry above the
 
 Besieged 299 
 
 roar of the battle: " Such fighting! and only 
 Territorials! Lieber Gott! Who can face such 
 fighting? " 
 
 A shell-scream, a frightful explosion and 
 the side of the tower went crashing down- 
 wards. A shell had struck close below the 
 rash observers. Half stunned, the friends hur- 
 ried to pick their way down the wrecked stair- 
 case. This end of the chateau was becoming 
 too hot for non-combatants. Loud crashes told 
 them that the sides also were being bombarded. 
 They went forward to the front, which over- 
 looked the marshy valley lands. 
 
 Kurt carried his own superb field glasses, 
 and Thorpe had retained the duke's. The 
 heavy rainfall had cleared for a time the Sep- 
 tember haze and mist. No French guns were 
 in position to shell the front of the chateau. 
 
 For the remainder of that frightful after- 
 noon the friends watched the gray lines of the 
 Imperial Guard recede down the lower slopes 
 and out into the flooded Marshes of St. Gond, 
 driven by the terrific fire of the seventy-fives 
 and the almost superhuman ardor of the smaller 
 French force. With their own guns mired in 
 the swamps, the defeated corps d' elite broke 
 into wild rout before the awful shelling that 
 continued to slaughter them far out into the 
 bog. 
 
 The setting sun of the most crucial day in 
 modern history flooded plateau and plain, hills 
 and marshes all a deep blood-red. 
 
 From Mailly to Montmiral, Foch's army, 
 greatly inferior in numbers but directed by a
 
 300 The Blond Beast 
 
 master strategist, had out-fought, out-maneuv- 
 ered, hurled back, and put to rout a quarter- 
 million Prussians and Saxons, the flower of 
 all the German armies. On this fifteen-mile 
 front of the Battle of Fere Champenoise, the 
 combined losses of victors and vanquished totaled 
 two hundred thousand casualties, fifty thou- 
 sand more than all the forces engaged in the 
 Battle of Waterloo. 
 
 Kurt and Thorpe saw only that part of the 
 debacle that took place in the marshes. But 
 they could well imagine the equally frightful 
 slaughter of the Saxons at Mailly. No mortal 
 men not even the blond beasts of Nietzsche 
 could hope to stand before those patriots 
 in most unscientific horizon-blue coats, who 
 charged and charged and charged, until the 
 last one fell dead with his bayonet out-flung 
 at his foe. 
 
 The gloomy closing down of the dank even- 
 ing mists broke the terrible fascinating spell 
 of the holocaust that held the friends in a night- 
 mare trance. They were astonished to realize 
 that the fight about the chateau was still rag- 
 ing that the garrison still held out against 
 the desperate assailants. Lighted by the elec- 
 tric torch chained to Kurt's coat, and keeping 
 as nearly as possible to the middle of the castle, 
 they descended into the cellars to assure Lucy of 
 their safety. 
 
 Nightfall brought a lull in the assault. The 
 French ceased their furious attempts to carry 
 the chateau by storm and rested behind the 
 barricades that they had taken. But a steady
 
 Besieged 301 
 
 dribble of shells exploded on or around the 
 chateau. 
 
 Von Pappheim, making his rounds, was too 
 thorough to omit the cellars. He ordered Kurt 
 on duty with the inner guard, and, with a fair 
 degree of civility, requested Thorpe and Lucy 
 to help attend the many wounded.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 THE STRATAGEM 
 
 Throughout the night the defenders of the 
 chateau lay on their arms in tense expectancy 
 of surprise attacks. None was made. Shortly 
 before daybreak bottles of port were passed 
 around to key up the courage of the chilled 
 soldiers against the expected dawn assault. The 
 gray light in the east reddened into a cloudy 
 sunrise and still the French held off. 
 
 But a view of the neighboring slopes and 
 adjacent high ground told that the attackers 
 were only waiting to destroy the defenders 
 without loss to themselves. The chateau was 
 now surrounded on all sides by their redoubled 
 forces, and a frightful burst of shell fire from 
 all around told not only that great numbers 
 of batteries had been brought up during the 
 night, but that among them were guns much 
 larger than the seventy-fives. 
 
 After one terrific salvo, the artillery fell 
 silent. Under a white flag a French staff officer 
 advanced to demand the unconditional surrender 
 of the Prussians. He was blindfolded and led 
 in to where Von Pappheim was having a slight 
 scalp wound dressed. Lucy, in her Sister of 
 Mercy coif and white dress, was feeding broth 
 
 302
 
 The Stratagem 303 
 
 to the helplessly wounded men. Thorpe had 
 shed his surgeon's coat to lift around a new 
 batch of the injured. The unblindf olded French- 
 man glanced at them with vivid interest and 
 gravely returned their bows. 
 
 To Von Pappheim he bowed with punctilious 
 and icy politeness. The statement of his mis- 
 sion was clear-cut and direct. His commander 
 was prepared to blow the chateau into frag- 
 ments. But to avert further effusion of blood 
 on the part of the gallant defenders, the offer 
 was made to accept their immediate uncon- 
 ditional surrender. 
 
 Von Pappheim asked for time. 
 
 11 But, Monsieur le Capitaine, consider your 
 friends," objected the Frenchman. " We desire 
 to share again their gay company. That we 
 should move quickly is necessary if we are to 
 accompany them on their return tour, n'est- 
 ce pas? ' 
 
 11 They shall come again soon," snapped Von 
 Pappheim. * ' Until then I will hold this strategic 
 position." 
 
 * ' Ah, a thousand regrets ! Refusal is then 
 made to surrender and save your brave soldiers 
 from inevitable annihilation? " 
 
 " My orders are to hold the chateau to the 
 last man. I am a captain of the Imperial 
 Guard. What more need be said? " 
 
 Von Pappheim 's tone was arrogantly defiant, 
 but his mustache tushes twitched. The French 
 had fought far too superbly for the prediction 
 of annihilation to be considered empty brag- 
 ging. The uneasy glance of the steel-blue Prus-
 
 304 The Blond Beast 
 
 sian eyes chanced to turn towards Lucy. The 
 Frenchman's ironic smile sobered. 
 
 " Pardon, Monsieur le Capitaine. This young 
 Sister of Mercy to permit her to remain here 
 where death is certain would be barbarous." 
 
 The lids of Von Pappheim 's clouded eyes 
 narrowed to mask a sudden crafty glint. 
 
 " Her own choice," he rejoined. " Besides, 
 she is not a nun, only an American woman. 
 She came here with that Red Cross man over 
 there, to nurse the Duke of Montmar." 
 
 * ' Ah ! ah ! the duke a brave officer ! All 
 grieved to hear of his wound. You hold him 
 prisoner? " 
 
 Von Pappheim smiled sardonically. "He 
 and this American friend of his duchess will 
 be as dead as the rest of us when you have 
 finished with your annihilating." 
 
 " Nom de Dieu! " exclaimed the French offi- 
 cer. " But if mademoiselle is a neutral? And 
 the duke a wounded prisoner Barbarous ! . . . 
 Is there then no escape for them, monsieur? " 
 
 " The duke is wounded, yet he is my pris- 
 oner," said Von Pappheim. " To allow him 
 to go free when you threaten to destroy all 
 my forces would be farcical. The girl is obsti- 
 nate. She will not go without her patient." 
 
 " But you say she is a neutral! " 
 
 " Himmel! " exclaimed Von Pappheim, as if 
 struck with a sudden thought. " We shall see 
 who is the more barbarous. I offer to release 
 the girl and her patient, if you give one of 
 my wounded officers safe escort with them to 
 your nearest hospital."
 
 The Stratagem 305 
 
 " Certainement, Monsieur le Capitaine. May 
 permission be asked for the inclusion of the 
 other neutral the American man? " 
 
 " Refused," curtly replied Von Pappheim. 
 
 He drew out a notebook and pencil, and wrote 
 rapidly in German: 
 
 "Pass Red Cross touring car, with American 
 woman nurse, Duke of Montmar, and wounded 
 officer of the Guard. Von Pappheim, Com- 
 manding Officer." 
 
 The French officer read the pass, and wrote 
 on the next leaf of the notebook, in French: 
 
 " Provide escort, and pass to hospital at 
 Sezanne the Duke of Montmar, his American 
 nurse, and wounded officer of Prussian Guard, 
 in Red Cross touring car. On behalf of Com- 
 mandant before the Chateau of Montmar, Lieu- 
 tenant Duvoy, Aide-de-camp." 
 
 Duvoy handed over the notebook, with a bow. 
 
 " The futile sacrifice of brave soldiers is 
 always a matter of profound regret, monsieur. 
 Half an hour's grace in which to reconsider 
 will be given before the commencement of the 
 bombardment. 
 
 Von Pappheim nodded brusquely, and signed 
 for the Frenchman to be led out. He went 
 across to Lucy. 
 
 " A word apart with you, fraulein." 
 
 Lucy beckoned to Thorpe. The captain 
 frowned, but led them into an empty room. 
 
 " You owe me thanks, fraulein," he said. " I 
 have persuaded the French fool to give a pass 
 for you to go with our wounded officers to a 
 hospital. ' '
 
 306 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Oil I had not thought you It is most 
 kind, Herr Count! You haven't forgotten that 
 Kurt saved your life. You will send him with 
 me, and of course Lan Mr. Thorpe." 
 
 " My most profound regrets, fraulein, but 
 the number is strictly limited. Seriously 
 wounded officers must be given first place." 
 
 " Then take mine for another." 
 
 " But, fraulein, the Frenchman has told what 
 is the truth. They have brought up many bat- 
 teries. The chateau will be smashed into atoms 
 by their hellish fire." 
 
 Lucy gazed up at Thorpe, her eyes darken- 
 ing with anguish. 
 
 " Then I will die with my friend." 
 
 Thorpe's face became grave. " Rot! " he 
 snapped. " Don't be a sentimental noodle, Loo." 
 
 " Ach, fraulein," deplored Von Pappheim, 
 11 that unaccommodating French devil! Positive 
 refusal was made of permission for Herr Thorpe 
 to go. Look for yourself. He is not named in 
 the pass." 
 
 The girl's troubled glance saw only the angu- 
 lar German script. She thrust the notebook 
 out to Thorpe. 
 
 " You know I don't read German. Besides, 
 it doesn't matter the least bit. I will not go 
 without Mr. Thorpe and Kurt." 
 
 Von Pappheim 's eyes hardened to polished 
 steel. 
 
 "You will go. I command." 
 
 Thorpe looked up, perplexed, from the two 
 passes. 
 
 " What does this mean about the Duke of
 
 The Stratagem 307 
 
 Montmar going to hospital? " he asked. " Have 
 you forgotten he is dead? " 
 
 " We shall have a resurrection, nicht? '' 
 answered Von Pappheim, and he bent towards 
 Lucy with a show of deep concern. " Fraulein, 
 the French talk loudly of German barbarities. 
 Yet I have planned this stratagem to save you 
 from their murderous guns. The blue devil 
 refused to permit you or any other person to 
 escape, until I stipulated that you and one of 
 our officers should be saved if I released the 
 duke. I did not say that the duke is already 
 dead. We shall swathe up his face in bandages. 
 When safe past the attackers, you can say that 
 he died on the way to the hospital. My will 
 is that you shall go, even if I have to tie you 
 like a pig for market." 
 
 Lucy's eyes flashed. 
 
 " Oh, you will? Well, then, unless you send 
 Kurt and Mr. Thorpe with me, I shall tell the 
 French of the scheme to dupe them, and how 
 you and your fellow Huns kill wounded men 
 in hospitals ! ' ' 
 
 The steely blue-white of Von Pappheim 's eyes 
 began to redden. The veins on his high fore- 
 head swelled. Thorpe tensed, ready to leap 
 in for the death struggle. But before the deter- 
 mination in Lucy's flashing eyes the Obermann 
 curbed his anger. Kultur requires that might 
 shall be directed by the intellect. To give rein 
 to the passions at a cost to one's self that is 
 preventable is to blunder unscientifically. 
 
 " So be it," he yielded with harsh reluctance. 
 " To save you from your willful foolishness I
 
 308 The Blond Beast 
 
 will even make a forgery. No one shall say 
 that I permitted you to stay and be killed by 
 those merciless blue devils. If I send Herr 
 Thorpe and Lieutenant von Kissel with you, 
 have I your promise and the word of Herr 
 Thorpe to carry out the stratagem of the duke, 
 whoever the other wounded officer may be?" 
 
 ' l Yes yes, ' ' agreed Thorpe and Lucy in 
 a breath. 
 
 " Good. Give me the French pass." 
 
 He took the notebook from Thorpe, and with 
 the art of one skilled in secret service work, 
 changed from singular to plural Lieutenant 
 Dupoy's French words for officer and nurse. 
 
 " So It is done. I have risked my honor 
 for your sake, fraulein. Be quick. Make ready 
 our resurrected duke his jaw tied up and his 
 eyes swathed about. His uniform and mustache 
 will be sufficient to dupe the French apes. The 
 touring car, Herr Thorpe. I will summon Lieu- 
 tenant von Kissel." 
 
 " Wait," said Lucy. " My maid and those 
 old servants I cannot leave them." 
 
 "Pfui! " hissed the aggravated captain. " To 
 load up with such vermin! But anything, any- 
 thing to get you safe out of this hell-house, 
 liebe fraulein! We can drop the French menials 
 in their own lines. Hasten all. The time is 
 too brief! " 
 
 He glanced at his watch, and rushed from 
 the room. The others hastened to carry out 
 his orders. Thorpe found the car still safe in 
 the garage. Before running it out into the 
 shell-pitted courtyard he locked a large can of
 
 The Stratagem 309 
 
 gasoline with the box of ducal treasures in the 
 car trunk. Chilled by the raw dankness of the 
 early morning air, he turned aside for his sur- 
 geon's coat on his dash back into the chateau 
 to help Lucy. The garment had disappeared 
 from the hook where he had hung it. 
 
 He found the elderly French maid loyally help- 
 ing her mistress dress the disinfectant-drenched 
 body of the duke in its uniform of a major of 
 Turcos. The eyes and jaws had been bandaged 
 as directed by Von Pappheim, and Lucy had 
 added a semblance of a feverish flush by spot- 
 ting the sunken cheeks with rouge. As Thorpe 
 stood staring, she noticed that he was in his 
 shirt-sleeves, and ran to fetch his civilian Red 
 Cross coat. 
 
 With the help of Marcelle, they managed to 
 carry the body downstairs in a blanket. Kurt 
 was waiting to go out with them. They found 
 Von Pappheim at the car with the old French 
 servants. His left arm was wrapped in a 
 reversed uniform coat. At his orders, the duke 's 
 body was lifted into the tonneau and supported 
 on the rear seat between Lucy and Kurt. Mar- 
 celle and the gaping French servants were 
 crowded in by the impatient captain, who then 
 jumped up in front beside Thorpe. 
 
 A crippled officer, now second in command to 
 Von Pappheim, came hobbling to ask that he 
 be relieved. 
 
 " Back to your post," ordered Von Papp- 
 heim in German. '* I will relieve you when 
 I have conducted these non-combatants to the 
 French lines. I have arranged for Von Kissel
 
 310 The Blond Beast 
 
 to escape and report our urgent need of aid." 
 
 Kurt nodded in confirmation, his blue eyes 
 beaming with hope. 
 
 " If only I can win through, and persuade 
 the High Commander into a back stroke! " 
 
 * * God with you ! ' ' invoked the crippled officer. 
 
 The car rolled slowly out of the courtyard 
 and around the debris-strewn drive. Von Papp- 
 heim jerked the coat from his left arm, which 
 was wrapped about with bloody bandages. He 
 thrust the arm into a sling made of his hand- 
 kerchief, and shook open the coat to drape it, 
 right side out, over his shoulders. Lucy recog- 
 nized the garment as Thorpe's borrowed sur- 
 geon's coat. But Thorpe did not see it. His 
 entire attention was centered on the difficult 
 task of guiding the car down the shell-torn 
 drive.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 THE WAY OUT 
 
 All outside the castle the Prussian defenses 
 had been demolished by the French fire or cap- 
 tured by the assailants. Less than half way 
 to the great gateway, the car was halted by a 
 squad of fierce-eyed mud-covered Turcos, who 
 were crouched behind a fragment of garden 
 wall. Thorpe *s heart leaped into his throat. 
 If the Africans were of the duke's own regi- 
 ment they might try to talk with his corpse. 
 
 Von Pappheim did not lack self-possession 
 and adroitness. He thrust out the French pass 
 to the wounded young Parisian in command of 
 the Turcos, and spoke quickly, in a tone of 
 sympathetic concern: 
 
 " As you see, monsieur, the duke is in a bad 
 way. The sooner we get him through to a 
 good hospital the better. " 
 
 The lieutenant handed back the pass, with 
 a sharp gesture for the party to proceed. Thorpe 
 looked at Von Pappheim, expecting him to 
 get out and walk back to the chateau. He was 
 met by a stern command: 
 
 " Drive on, fool! We have been passed. 
 Hasten The duke will die! " 
 
 The sight of his own surgeon coat on the 
 
 311
 
 312 The Blond Beast 
 
 captain's shoulders quickened Thorpe's percep- 
 tion. He sent the car rolling forward. What 
 matter if Von Pappheim was deserting his com- 
 mand? Not to be rid of him was a bitter 
 disappointment. But the main thing now was 
 to get Lucy clear away from the chateau. 
 
 The succeeding French lines were as easily 
 negotiated as the first, and the road was less 
 shell pitted on down the hill. Even the younger 
 French officers spared only a deferential glance 
 or two for Lucy and the " wounded " duke. 
 All were on tiptoe, waiting for the bombard- 
 ment of the chateau to begin. 
 
 Down in the valley a bearded major of Ter- 
 ritorials read the pass with more care than 
 his predecessors. He ordered a pair of keen- 
 eyed chasseurs into the tonneau, in place of the 
 old servant couple. But at Lucy's protest, Mar- 
 celle was permitted to go on with the party. 
 Lucy draped the face of her ghastly seat-mate, 
 as if to shade it from the out-shining sun. 
 
 The guards crowded in beside Marcelle, and 
 sat facing Lucy and Kurt and the corpse. Von 
 Pappheim glanced askance at their backs, over 
 his shoulder, and smiled grimly. 
 
 Just before Thorpe brought the now speeding 
 car to the Sezanne-Epernay road the air was 
 rent with a terrific outer ashing roar. The 
 French batteries had begun the bombardment. 
 All around and about the grand old castle burst 
 a multitude of shells, whose out-puffing smoke 
 merged into a gray pall. 
 
 The chasseurs sprang erect in the tonneau, 
 to shout for France and victory. Von Pappheim
 
 The Way Out 313 
 
 swept his glance around. The only French 
 troops in sight were to the rear, and all were 
 peering up at the doomed castle on the hill top. 
 He jerked out a concealed pistol, gave the outer- 
 most guard a hard shove sideways, and shot 
 him through the head. Already overbalanced, 
 the dying man pitched down into the road. As 
 the other chasseur whirled around, a bullet 
 pierced his heart. He sagged down and fell 
 backwards with his head in Lucy's lap. 
 
 Thorpe had instinctively thrown out the clutch 
 and applied the emergency brake. The car came 
 to a stand. Von Pappheim pointed his pistol 
 at the shrieking Marcelle. 
 
 " Jump out, you squealing sow," he ordered 
 " No, not you, fraulein, else I shoot our dear 
 friend Thorpe. Quick, French squealer. Out 
 with you, or I shoot you, too." 
 
 The elderly maid, already nerve-broken by 
 her terrible experiences during the invasion, 
 scrambled from the car so flurriedly that she 
 fell face down in the road. Von Pappheim had 
 turned to dig his pistol muzzle into Thorpe's 
 ribs. 
 
 " Drive on to the right to Epernay! " he 
 commanded. " Drive like the devil! " 
 
 Thorpe threw in the clutch and sent the car 
 lurching forward. At the junction of the main 
 road he turned north towards the Marne, as 
 ordered. To drive at any speed along the shell- 
 pitted macadam, required his utmost skill and 
 closest attention. As the car corkscrewed and 
 bounced and jolted along its bumpy course, Von 
 Pappheim flung off the surgeon's coat and smiled
 
 314 The Blond Beast 
 
 grimly at the living occupants of the tonneau. 
 
 " Why so horrified, fraulein? " he mocked. 
 ' ' War is war. Strong situations require stronger 
 methods ... And you, Von Kissel I did not 
 think you so white-livered. But as well you 
 made no attempt to draw your pistol. I have 
 been watching you out of the corner of my eye. ' ' 
 
 Kurt's eyes flashed. " We shall see, if you 
 attempt to harm my betrothed." 
 
 " Have I not given my word to bring you 
 safe to the High Commander! " reproved Von 
 Pappheim. " Oblige me, fraulein, with the chas- 
 seur's rifle and cap." 
 
 The point of the bayonet on the rifle had 
 caught in the front of the duke's uniform. Lucy 
 disentangled it and gently lifted the kepi from 
 the head on her lap. 
 
 " Now the coat," said Von Pappheim. " I 
 shall pass as one of those traitor schweine 
 who deserted to France from Alsace." 
 
 As soon as the coat was off, he opened the 
 tonneau door and rolled the chasseur out among 
 the carcasses of horses and the corpses of French 
 and Prussians that were thickly strewn along- 
 side the road. A few moments later he had 
 on the kepi and long blue coat. He sat, rifle 
 in hand, to all appearances a French chasseur 
 of Alsatian parentage. 
 
 The car was now pounding slowly along 
 through the ruck and welter of swamp and 
 battle-wreckage. For the first mile the flotsam 
 and jettison of the awful war-storm had 
 increased in quantity and ghastliness broken 
 down trucks and caissons, guns bogged to the
 
 The Way Out 315 
 
 trunnions out in the mud and water, knap- 
 sacks, clothing, broken rifles, bodies of men 
 and horses, in whole and in parts; worst of 
 all, wounded men crying piteously from the 
 edge of the shell-ripped road. 
 
 In places the up-built macadam had been so 
 blasted away that its telford sub-bed was over- 
 flowed with the crimsoned slime of the swamps. 
 Thorpe's best efforts could not have worried 
 the car across, had not French engineers, during 
 the night, filled in the worst holes and heaved 
 the more bulky obstacles out of the roadway. 
 Von Pappheim cursed virulently as he gazed 
 at the number of guns that could be seen to 
 the eastward, far out in the heart of the marshes, 
 where the routed Guards had been driven by 
 the cross-charges of Turcos from the west. 
 
 The far side of the swamps bounded the 
 worst of the slaughter, though the debacle had 
 continued on across country towards the Marne. 
 On the left, the Moroccans had hurled back 
 Von Billow's Hanoverians, along with the 
 Prussians. 
 
 The road presently became much better. The 
 party soon came in view of French patrols that 
 were beating the woods and coppices for squads 
 of fugitive Germans. Ahead appeared French 
 munition trains and long columns of reserves, 
 all streaming north towards the Marne. 
 
 At Von Pappheim 's command, Kurt put on 
 the surgeon's coat and hid his spiked helmet. 
 When the car overtook the troops, it whirled 
 along beside them, honking for the right of 
 way with the imperiousness of a General Staff
 
 316 The Blond Beast 
 
 machine. Audacity, the chasseur's uniform, and 
 the Red Cross, carried the party clear through 
 to where a desperate rear-guard action was 
 delaying the French rush at Epernay. Here 
 the car veered west, behind the main French 
 forces, found a hole in the line, and slipped 
 through to the Marne. 
 
 Once in sight of the retreating German rear- 
 guard, Von Pappheim stripped off the chasseur's 
 coat and climbed over into the tonneau. With 
 a jeer of mock adieu, he wrenched the corpse 
 of the Duke of Montmar out of the overstrained 
 grasp of Lucy and Kurt, and dumped it into 
 the road behind the car. Overcome by the hor- 
 ror of this, Lucy swooned for the first time 
 in all her frightful weeks in the maelstrom 
 of war. 
 
 North of the Marne there was, in places, some 
 degree of orderliness about the German retreat. 
 While Kurt held Lucy on the rear seat with 
 his one arm and sought to revive her, Thorpe 
 obeyed Von Pappheim 's command to zigzag east- 
 wards. Lucy had hardly recovered conscious- 
 ness when the headquarters of the Guard Corps 
 staff were located. 
 
 Von Pappheim, who had removed the bloody 
 bandage from his uninjured left arm, reported 
 that he and Lieutenant von Kissel had broken 
 through the French lines to seek aid for the 
 chateau's garrison. The staff officers stared 
 at him as if he were idiotic. Their half -distracted 
 commander peremptorily ordered him to report 
 for duty at the Epernay bridgehead. Even as 
 the general spoke, he turned away to catch an
 
 The Way Out 317 
 
 in-rushing aide's report of fresh rout, and to 
 snap out an order meant to block the disaster. 
 Von Pappheim had no choice but to salute and 
 hasten off. Outside he scowled as he strode 
 past where Thorpe and Lucy were waiting in 
 the car. 
 
 More aides dashed in with reports and 
 rushed out again with orders. Very soon a 
 moment came when two messengers were 
 required, though there was only one aide at 
 hand. The general glanced around, caught sight 
 of Kurt, and flung at him one of the orders. 
 Kurt ran out just in time to head off an aide 
 who had ridden his horse to death and was 
 requisitioning the car at the point of a pistol. 
 
 As Thorpe raced away with them, Kurt ex- 
 plained to Lucy that his use of the car for staff 
 work was the only way to keep her from being 
 set afoot. The trip took them back across the 
 Marne and into the danger zone of the French 
 seventy-fives. On their return, Thorpe insisted 
 that Lucy should stop at a field hospital. She 
 submitted to his vigorous handgrip, offered her 
 cheek to Kurt, and set to dressing wounds. 
 
 All the remainder of that second disastrous 
 day and all that night Thorpe served his friend 
 as chauffeur. By morning Von Hausen had 
 managed to get the last of his shattered army 
 across the Marne. Some of the less battered 
 corps were sufficiently re-formed to delay the 
 French pursuit with well-sustained rearguard 
 actions. 
 
 In this they were aided by Foch's diversion 
 of a part of his little army to attack a new
 
 318 The Blond Beast 
 
 foe. East of Mm the Duke of Wurttemberg's 
 army was rather more than holding its own 
 against the next French army. But the duke's 
 flank had been exposed by the flight of the Guard 
 and Saxons. Foch struck it a lightning side 
 blow. This started a general retreat, that did 
 not end until both Wurttemberg and the Crown 
 Prince were back in the Argonne. 
 
 To the west, Von Kluck and Von Billow 
 were sharing Von Hausen's retreat to the Aisne, 
 abandoning in places immense quantities of 
 munitions and equipment. Had there been a 
 single corps of French reserves to dash into 
 the shattered German center, the mightiest war- 
 machine of all history would have been put to 
 utter rout. Even as it was, Foch's depleted 
 little army, despite exhaustion from its tremen- 
 dous exertions, continued to hammer back Von 
 Hausen's vastly superior numbers. The other 
 French armies, everywhere inferior in numbers 
 to their opponents, shared in the smashing drive 
 that did not end until the invincible host of 
 Deutschland took refuge in the howitzer-pro- 
 tected trenches that had been prepared for its 
 " strategic retreat." 
 
 On the eleventh, Thorpe and Kurt, taking 
 advantage of a dispatch to the Aisne, had shifted 
 Lucy to Eheims. There Kurt met a friend in 
 the Commissariat, who was able to arrange a 
 railway passage for Lucy to Brussels. She 
 refused to go without Thorpe unless certain he 
 was no longer in danger from Von Hausen. She 
 believed Kurt's assurance that Von Pappheim 
 could not now harm Thorpe. But she seemed
 
 The Way Out 319 
 
 obsessed by the threat of the High Commander 
 to execute him as her spy accomplice. 
 
 In vain Kurt told her the rumor that the 
 Kaiser had said Von Hausen should have shot 
 himself after so disgraceful a defeat. But then 
 came the official announcement that Von Hausen 
 had been relieved of his command. Lucy per- 
 mitted herself to be reassured. 
 
 At the same time Kurt received orders to go 
 home on sick leave. Thorpe felt a sudden long- 
 ing to see Elsa. But Lucy would hear nothing 
 of accompanying them to Berlin. To the intense 
 distress of Kurt, she insisted upon going to 
 Brussels. 
 
 " I've had enough of war to last me for 
 a lifetime," she shudderingly replied to his 
 pleadings. " No doubt the American minister 
 at Brussels can help me get to England by way 
 of Holland. I want to go home, out of all 
 this. I don't want to seem hard, Kurt, but 
 the very sight of your soldiers sickens me. 
 After the war you can come over, and we will 
 see how I feel. Until then I shall consider 
 myself bound by our engagement/' 
 
 " My betrothed! " murmured Kurt, his mild 
 eyes violet with love. " God grant I may come 
 to you soon! " 
 
 Her parting with Thorpe was on the sur- 
 face very offhand and comradelike. ' * My love 
 to Elsa, and kind remembrances to the mother. 
 Watch out for the herr count." 
 
 " Neither Kurt nor I have seen or heard of 
 him this side the Marne," replied Thorpe. 
 
 " Well, don't go out of your way to stir up
 
 320 The Blond Beast 
 
 the tigers, Lan. They're ferocious enough. " 
 Kurt's commissariat friend had provided a 
 German Red Cross deaconess as chaperon for 
 the herr lieutenant's betrothed. This rather 
 salved Thorpe's conscience as he and Kurt 
 watched the train bear Lucy away on her lonely 
 journey. Yet he felt a half guilty uneasiness 
 that lingered in his consciousness until over- 
 borne by his happy anticipations as another 
 train swept him and Kurt Berlin-ward. Behind 
 them they left Lucy's war-roughed car, still in 
 the service of the Guard Staff. But Kurt car- 
 ried as part of his baggage the strong-box with 
 the ducal treasures rescued by Thorpe.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 WHEN INTEKESTS CHANGE 
 
 From a region of death and destruction, fear 
 and oppression, misery, fighting and famine, 
 the returning friends passed in a night across 
 the frontier into another world a world 
 strangely like and yet unlike the hell-world they 
 had left. 
 
 Everywhere the spirit of war was rampant, 
 though the land lay fat and smiling in peace- 
 ful security. Here was no pillaging and out- 
 raging, no burning of homes, bombarding of 
 cathedrals, murdering of women and children. 
 Here war was glorious, and not a thing of 
 shame and horror. Every soldier from the 
 front was a hero. Militarism was triumphant. 
 Even the Socialists had been seized with the 
 wild delirium of the war-fever. 
 
 In all the Fatherland no one was cruelly mis- 
 treated except the unfortunate war prisoners. 
 They were being shipped to the prison camps 
 in filthy cattle-cars, without food or water, 
 reviled, struck and spat upon. Even the wounded 
 in their agony were mocked by Bed Cross 
 women, who offered them cups of cool water 
 not in the name of Christ and with derisive 
 laughter spilled out the life-saving drink before 
 a drop had touched their fever-parched lips. 
 
 321
 
 322 The Blond Beast 
 
 Hardly less harsh was the treatment of the 
 civilian enemy aliens. Men and women alike 
 had been seized and incarcerated in the box 
 stalls and hay lofts of the vile detention camp 
 at Euhleben. 
 
 All the land was aflame with a hell-fire of 
 hate, derision and triumph. Here was none 
 of the mortification and humiliation, the bitter 
 shame and furious chagrin, that had eaten like 
 acid into the pride of the arrogant invaders 
 of North France. The Kaiser-controlled press 
 and pulpit and rostrum had already explained 
 away that disastrous rout and backward flight 
 from the Marne as a withdrawal for strategic 
 purposes. As soon as reinforcements should 
 arrive, the invincible army of the Fatherland 
 would advance again and blot France off the 
 map. 
 
 Hate, that most frightful of all the human 
 passions, had become a Government-inspired 
 cult. Deutschland was singing hymns in wor- 
 ship of war and the blond beast. Scientists, 
 soldiers, and ministers called Christian, had 
 acclaimed the German race as morally and intel- 
 lectually high above all other races; and in the 
 same breath lauded the shelling of Bheims 
 cathedral, the burning of the Louvain library, 
 the Hun-like destruction of world-famous art 
 treasures, the infliction of pain and misery, 
 and the crushing of free peoples. 
 
 Why should the Super race spare the base 
 under races in the inevitable triumphant on- 
 surge to its place in the sun and the fulfill- 
 ment of its glorious destiny as dominator of
 
 When Interests Change 323 
 
 the world? Let Deutschland's enemies beware! 
 
 " War is the king and father of all, neces- 
 sary and glorious. We have nothing to apolo- 
 gize for. They call us barbarians. What of 
 it? We feel no shame... Gott strafe the Rus- 
 sian beasts, the silly Belgian fanatics, the degen- 
 erate French above all, the false, envious 
 Engldnder schweine, whose contemptible little 
 army of mercenaries kept us from rolling up 
 the French flank and cheated our heroic Crown 
 Prince of his Sedan Day in Paris ! . . . Against 
 all our enemies let there be only hate and hate 
 also for the greedy Americans, who are selling 
 their powder and shells to kill our brave heroes. 
 Teach hate, act hate, cultivate the desire to 
 hate. To us is given faith, hope and hatred, 
 but the greatest of these is hatred! " 
 
 Such was the talk of civilians and soldiers, of 
 men and women, all the long journey to Berlin. 
 Thorpe did not realize the savage depth and 
 intensity of this volcanic eruption of hell-fire 
 until he happened to speak in English to Kurt 
 within hearing of a group of minor officials. 
 Before this, his Red Cross sleeve bands, his 
 idiomatic, high-class German speech and the 
 companionship of Kurt had won him a half 
 share of the flattering attentions showered upon 
 the returning officer heroes. 
 
 Now his infuriated train-mates denounced and 
 cursed him as an English spy. He was struck 
 and spat at, and would have been dragged off 
 the train under arrest had not Kurt shouted 
 down the false charges. He repeated over and 
 over again that Thorpe was not British, but an
 
 324 The Blond Beast 
 
 American Red Cross volunteer who had helped 
 save an officer of the Imperial Guard. When 
 at last the truth had been hammered into the 
 thick Teutonic heads, the fury of Thorpe's 
 assailants transformed itself into a gush of 
 sentimentality like the slaver and gloze of boar 
 hounds. There were many emotional apologies 
 and much uncorking of beer. Thorpe thought 
 of Elsa, and for Kurt's sake tried to be cordial. 
 
 Smoothly as all train service was now being 
 operated throughout Germany, a movement of 
 troops caused a change that brought Kurt and 
 Thorpe into Berlin a full two hours ahead of 
 the scheduled time. As they came out of the 
 station with their scant war-scarred baggage, 
 an enthusiastic merchant insisted upon loaning 
 them his limousine and chauffeur. 
 
 The drive through the city astonished Thorpe 
 and even Kurt. Berlin was not only busier and 
 livelier and gayer than before the outbreak of 
 war, but it more than ever swarmed with sol- 
 diers. While the grimy shell-torn armies of 
 the invasion lay behind the howitzer-guarded 
 trenches of the Aisne line, panting from their 
 rearward race, vast numbers of officers and 
 men swaggered the streets of the imperial capi- 
 tal in all the garish panoply of military parade 
 dress. 
 
 The sober field gray was conspicuous by its 
 absence. Instead, Berlin was dazzled as usual, 
 or more than usual, by generals in gold and 
 blue, jagers in vivid green, arrogant hussars 
 in blazing red. Scabbards flashed like mirrors; 
 spurred heels clicked. Near the Thiergarten,
 
 When Interests Change 325 
 
 Kurt held his hand at salute as the limousine 
 whirled past a goose-stepping regiment of the 
 Guard. 
 
 But Thorpe gave all this military display 
 only momentary attention. He no more than 
 glanced up at the huge amber-hued Zeppelin 
 that floated over the city like a Brobdingnagian 
 gas-filled cigar. Enthusiastic Germans had been 
 telling him that these instruments of Teutonic 
 scientific warfare would soon blow all London 
 to hell. He was not interested in hellish 
 machines. He had had his fill of scientific war- 
 fare. His whole being longed to forget all that 
 horror of blood and frightfulness and misery 
 in the angelic peace of Elsa's love. 
 
 A big gray car was waiting in the drive of 
 the Von Kissel villa. Thorpe hardly observed 
 it. His eager glance had fixed upon the flower 
 beds where he had botanized the June blossoms 
 with his beloved Elsa...All the flowers were 
 gone, and the plants looked sear and blighted. 
 
 Kurt gaily waved his uninjured arm towards 
 the gray car as they sprang from the limousine. 
 
 " See, Allan. The mother and Elsa have 
 not yet started for the station. Some kind 
 friend of the Guard has come to take them to 
 meet us. But we have stolen a march on them 
 mcht? " 
 
 Regardless of his wound and the dignity of 
 his higher rank and Iron Cross, he scampered 
 ahead like a boy. Thorpe paused to tip the 
 chauffeur, who had leaped down to hand out 
 the baggage. He could not forget his responsi- 
 bility for the coffer of treasure belonging to
 
 326 The Blond Beast 
 
 Lucy's friend, Duchess Polly, even as he thrilled 
 with blissful anticipations of Elsa's kisses. Box 
 in hand, he hurried after Kurt. The door of 
 the villa was locked. Thorpe was at the steps 
 before it leisurely swung open in response to 
 Kurt's impatient clanging of the old-fashioned 
 doorbell. 
 
 Framed in the opening Thorpe saw a vision 
 of blond loveliness, most stylishly attired in a 
 Parisian motoring costume. With a shriek of 
 joy, the vision flung herself at Kurt. He dodged 
 just quickly enough to save his half-healed 
 wound by taking the impact on his left shoulder. 
 
 " Gently gently, eager one," he chided. 
 " You are most tender, but so is my hurt." 
 
 He gave the disconcerted girl an emphatic 
 brotherly kiss, whirled her about towards 
 Thorpe, and dashed into the house. Thorpe 
 was springing forward. For the first time Elsa 
 caught sight of him. Her bewildered face 
 instantly became radiant with love and joy. She 
 flung out her arms to Thorpe. He dropped the 
 box and caught her to him. His lips pressed 
 upon her delicious lips, upon her scarlet cheeks, 
 upon her soulfully tender eyes. 
 
 * ' Darling ! my darling ! " he murmured. 
 
 But then, as suddenly as if he had changed 
 into a monster, the blissful radiance of the 
 girPs look vanished. Her eyes dilated with 
 grief and dread; her blushes faded into the 
 pallor of panic. She jerked her arms from 
 about his neck, to push against his breast with 
 convulsive force. 
 
 " Achl achl I forgot!" she panted. "God
 
 When Interests Change 327 
 
 help us! Let me go! You must not hold me! 
 It is is wicked sinful ! ' ' 
 
 Thorpe was amazed. Yet he held fast against 
 her struggle to thrust free. 
 
 " Wicked? " he remonstrated. " When we 
 are to be married! " 
 
 " Nein! nein! Ach! lieber Gottt I am 
 betrothed to another ! " 
 
 Stunned by the blow, Thorpe stood motion- 
 less while the girl thrust herself out of his 
 relaxing arms and fled into the house. The 
 first impulse that stirred his benumbed brain 
 was the instinct that drives a stricken creature 
 to creep off alone. He turned gropingly towards 
 the drive. His foot was half down to the first 
 step when a flash of pain and anger stabbed 
 through his daze and roused him to clear con- 
 sciousness. He turned about and walked reso- 
 lutely into the house. 
 
 Joyful exclamations came from the parlor. 
 Thorpe first saw Kurt standing with his sound 
 arm clasped about his weeping, smiling, over- 
 joyed mother. Like Elsa, she was dressed for 
 the trip to the station. Thorpe recognized the 
 magnificent set of furs looted from the chateau 
 that had been Von Hausen's headquarters after 
 the battle of Mons-Charleroi. In the far corner 
 of the parlor was the rosewood piano that Kurt 
 had at the same time shipped to his beloved 
 sister. 
 
 Another step brought Thorpe through the 
 parlor doorway into full view of the room. 
 At the left, resplendent in the dress uniform 
 of a major of the Imperial Guard, decorated
 
 328 The Blond Beast 
 
 with the Iron Cross and the Eed Eagle, stood 
 Von Pappheim. He looked arrogantly at Thorpe, 
 his thin lips curving in a cynical smile that 
 tilted the tushes of his yellowish-white mustache. 
 
 Thorpe gave him a cold nod of recognition, 
 and looked around for Elsa. She was not in 
 the room. He stepped forward towards her 
 mother. As Frau von Kissel caught sight of 
 him her beaming face sobered and dulled to a 
 look of heavy obstinacy that held more than 
 a hint of resentment. Kurt stared from her to 
 Thorpe and back again, suddenly dashed and 
 perplexed. 
 
 " Have you no welcome for Allan, mother 
 for my heart's friend for Elsa's beloved? " 
 he reproached. 
 
 " NeinI " she denied. " Not Elsa's beloved. 
 That was all a mistake. I have sad news for 
 you, lieber son. My kind cousin whose beard 
 Elsa could not endure has been reported killed 
 on the Eussian front. The will leaves half to 
 you and half to Elsa, the ungrateful child I She 
 now has a real dot. A high honor also has 
 come to her, undeserving as she is. I have 
 accepted for her the marriage proposals of 
 Count Wolf von Pappheim." 
 
 ' * Mother ! ' ' cried Kurt ' ' When you know 
 how she and Allan love! " 
 
 " She will no longer love an unwealthy, 
 untitled foreigner. She has now her large dot 
 and the love of her betrothed, the high-born 
 Count von Pappheim. A dutiful wife can love 
 only her husband." 
 
 Thorpe had at last got himself in hand.
 
 When Interests Change 329 
 
 " Tante," he appealed, " I loved Elsa and 
 I won her love when her dot was too small for 
 the herr count to notice her loveliness. You 
 gave your consent. She is promised to me." 
 
 " I have recalled my assent, my good Allant. 
 You must not be selfish. You must think how 
 much the better match it will be for her to be 
 upraised to the high position of a countess." 
 
 " She loves me she still loves me," insisted 
 Thorpe. " How can you make her suffer so? 
 Von Pappheim has no right to her. She is 
 engaged to me. I ask you to keep your word 
 to us." 
 
 " But I did not give my word. A woman 
 has none to give. She is not an officer. Besides, 
 a promise is not binding when it becomes not 
 to one's best interests to keep it... And Elsa 
 was not betrothed to you. She is betrothed to 
 the herr count. The announcements have been 
 made." 
 
 Kurt confronted his mother, stern-faced, no 
 longer a boy. 
 
 " I will not consent to this dishonor," he 
 said. " The announcements shall be recalled." 
 
 The determined frau wavered before the 
 authority of the head of the family, but Von 
 Pappheim stepped forward within the scope 
 of her uncertain glance. His face was domineer- 
 ingly haughty. She rallied to renewed stub- 
 bornness. 
 
 "It is too late," she asserted. " The herr 
 count has willed an early marriage. You sent 
 so many trunks of lovely Parisian gowns and 
 lady's wear that no delay was needed to pre-
 
 330 The Blond Beast 
 
 pare a trousseau. The wedding is to be a week 
 from to-day." 
 
 "Trunks Parisian gowns? " exclaimed 
 Kurt. "I sent nothing like that." 
 
 "They are Lucy's," explained Thorpe. " She 
 had her trunks sent here from the Castle of 
 Montmar. As your betrothed, she thought they 
 would be safe at your home. I can hardly 
 believe that the herr count would enjoy seeing 
 his bride wear the used gowns of the lady who 
 gave him the basket." 
 
 Von Pappheim put a hand on the hilt of 
 his sword. 
 
 " Pfui! I will endure no insults from a 
 low outland dog." 
 
 " Is that well spoken to my friend, who helped 
 save your life? " thrust Kurt. 
 
 " Masters owe small thanks for the services 
 of underlings," replied Von Pappheim. " I 
 far more than evened the score by bringing 
 him and you safe out of Montmar." 
 
 " Ach! ach! You have forgotten that, you 
 two," chided Frau von Kissel. " Be shamed! 
 Where is your gratitude? " 
 
 " So he has duped you, poor foolish mother! " 
 pitied Kurt. " He would have left us to be 
 blown to pieces, had not Lucy, who is now 
 my betrothed, refused to leave without us. He 
 had to have her to help carry out his ghastly 
 cheat with the dead Duke of Montmar." 
 
 "He would have left you? Ach, himmel! 
 Is it possible you would have left my lieber 
 Kurtzie to die, Herr Count? " 
 
 " Where is that verdammt spy-woman? " Von
 
 When Interests Change 331 
 
 Pappheim strategically shifted from defense to 
 attack. 
 
 " My betrothed is now safe from your false 
 charges," parried Kurt. 
 
 11 Your betrothed? " questioned the mother, her 
 attention fixed by his second reference to the 
 relationship. " But that also is changed. You 
 must cast her off. No more do you need her 
 money, and as she is a spy-woman " 
 
 " No, Tante! " broke in Thorpe. " That is 
 a lie. The noble count is seeking to persecute 
 her because she has twice given him the basket." 
 
 " Be silent, you! " commanded Von Papp- 
 heim, and he again grasped his sword hilt. 
 
 " This is my house, Count von Pappheim," 
 warned Kurt. " Do not threaten, else I call 
 the servant to show you to the door. You are 
 the one who- should be silent with shame. 
 Out of spite you made false charges against 
 my betrothed. Out of greed you flatter my 
 mother into forcing Elsa to a betrothal with 
 you when you learn she has a large dot. Even 
 without that dot, you would seek to hold my 
 sister fast, out of spite to her beloved, the man 
 who saved your life. You have sought to get 
 rid of him and me. Now we shall rid ourselves 
 of you. You will consent to the breaking of 
 the betrothal, or I will report to our high gen- 
 eral how you, the officer in command, fled from 
 the Castle of Montmar to save your life, and 
 left your forces to perish. Would you enjoy 
 having your Cross and Red Eagle and major's 
 insignia torn from your uniform before our 
 regiment? "
 
 332 The Blond Beast 
 
 " Be not hasty, my good young friend," 
 jeered Von Pappheim. " Let us see who holds 
 the stronger hand. Other crosses may be more 
 loosely fastened than mine. Prefer charges 
 for a court-martial if you wish. I have been 
 cited for brilliant service in holding up the 
 French pursuit with my rearguard defense of 
 the chateau and for my daring and craft in 
 breaking through to seek rescue for my 
 command." 
 
 " We admit the craft," interjected Thorpe. 
 
 Von Pappheim did not turn his menacing 
 stare from Kurt. 
 
 " As for you, my good young friend, no 
 disgrace shall happen if you curb your rash 
 tongue. Because of my betrothal to your sister, 
 I have made no charges against you for the 
 two times that you refused to obey my orders. 
 I will have silence from you, and you will give 
 me your sister for wife, or you will pay the 
 penalty for mutiny." 
 
 Frau von Kissel screamed and frantically 
 tore away the looted furs from about her 
 thick neck as she cried for Kurt to agree 
 and for Von Pappheim to spare her beloved 
 son. Several moments passed before Thorpe 
 and Kurt managed to quiet her hysteria and 
 get her, panting and clucking, into a chair. 
 Thorpe drew back and gazed at her with con- 
 temptuous pity. 
 
 " You've no need to worry, Tante," he said. 
 " Kurt was my friend long before I ever saw 
 his sister. I shall give her up rather than 
 allow him to risk disgrace and death. He would
 
 When Interests Change 333 
 
 do it for me. He is loyal. She is not, else slie 
 would have refused to yield. She is not worthy 
 of Kurt's sacrifice. Yet I do not blame her. 
 All will power has been drilled out of her. The 
 disgrace and shame is yours and the high-born 
 count *s." 
 
 " What what foolish talk! " complained the 
 indignant frau. 
 
 Thorpe gripped Kurt's hand, turned abruptly, 
 and went out past the cynically smiling Von 
 Pappheim as if the herr count had been a piece 
 of Prussian statuary.
 
 BROKEN TIES 
 
 As Thorpe passed out into the portico Kurt's 
 hand clasped over his shoulder. He faced about 
 and saw the kindly blue eyes of his friend dark 
 with sympathetic misery. 
 
 " Buck up, old man. You're not to blame," 
 he consoled. " Any message for Loo? " 
 
 " Give her my heart's But you're not going 
 to rush back to America, Allan not yet. I'd 
 be greatly to blame if I let you go while there 
 is yet the slightest chance. I can't bear to think 
 of your suffering and Elsa's! You'll at least 
 wait until I have made sure whether Von Papp- 
 heim can make good his threat. Think of Elsa 
 of how she will grieve! " 
 
 Thorpe flinched. "Don't... It would be far 
 worse for her if Pappheim had you shot." 
 
 " No danger to me in your waiting a few 
 days. You're no quitter, Allan. Until she is 
 actually married you can't give up trying." 
 
 " What chance, with a girl of her rearing? " 
 questioned Thorpe. " But I'll wait and see... 
 You'll find me at my old lodgings." 
 
 Kurt picked up the box of treasure, which 
 lay in front of the other baggage. 
 
 " Better take this to your ambassador. I'll 
 
 334
 
 Broken Ties 335 
 
 try to ship Lucy's trunks to her. But this is 
 too valuable. It would be seized at the fron- 
 tier. The embassy may consent to take charge 
 of it as the property of an American. At the 
 same time it will be well for you to have your 
 passport checked up. Von Pappheim may try 
 to be disagreeable." 
 
 Thorpe took the strong-box and set off for the 
 nearest bus line. Many additions had been made 
 to the embassy staff and several of the former 
 attaches were gone. But Thorpe had the good 
 fortune to chance upon the one he knew best. 
 A brief statement of his war experiences was 
 taken for the secret archives of the embassy, 
 and all the jewels and other valuables, except 
 the gold, were transferred to an official dispatch- 
 box. At the attache's suggestion, Thorpe kept 
 the coins and gave a check for the amount, 
 payable to the Duchess of Montmar at his New 
 York bank. 
 
 As he set off with the empty strong-box, the 
 gold and a new passport, the attache gave him 
 a parting hint: 
 
 " Drop in on us, Thorpe, when you get ready 
 to hit out for God's country. We'll commission 
 you as an official dispatch-bearer. Otherwise 
 you may strike snags at the frontier." 
 
 The days that followed were the most bitter 
 that Thorpe had ever known. He could not 
 go to the Von Kissel villa. Yet day and night 
 he was tortured with longing to see Elsa and 
 with grief over his certainty that she was lost 
 to him. Berlin was in a whirl of balls and 
 concerts and bierabends, gayer than it had ever
 
 336 The Blond Beast 
 
 been before so early in the season. Yet there 
 was no diversion for Thorpe. To him the fes- 
 tivities seemed only a mockery of his loss, even 
 as the swagger and garishness of the military 
 display kept him constantly in mind of the arro- 
 gant Prussian who had robbed him of love 
 and happiness. 
 
 Twice Kurt telephoned, but only to say that 
 Elsa seemed absolutely subject to Von Papp- 
 heim's domination, that the mother remained 
 obdurate, and that he was not yet sure whether 
 the threatened accusation of mutiny would hold 
 water. On the morning before the wedding day 
 he again telephoned, this time hurriedly to make 
 an appointment for a meeting in a certain iso- 
 lated corner of a park. 
 
 Though the day was very raw and disagree- 
 able even for Berlin's autumn weather, Thorpe 
 flung on his new raincoat and set out at once 
 in the wind and sleet and freezing slush. He 
 arrived so soon at the meeting place that he 
 had to wait several minutes. He was chilled 
 to the bone, when a limousine came whirling 
 around the drive and stopped before him. 
 
 Kurt, muffled to the ears in a chauffeur's coat, 
 leaned out of the front and motioned towards 
 the tonneau. Thorpe hurried around to the lee 
 side. The windows there were hardly less 
 blurred by the sleet than those to windward. 
 As he stepped up into the car he laid aside 
 his hat and flung open his dripping raincoat. 
 
 A be-furred figure was shrinking over to the 
 far corner. The uptilting of the big hat exposed 
 a maze of softly glinting gold. In a twinkling
 
 Broken Ties 337 
 
 Thorpe had his arms about the frightened girl. 
 She struggled half-heartedly, and then lay with 
 her head upon his breast, quivering like a ter- 
 rified bird. 
 
 " Darling! " he cried. " You have come to 
 me You love me above all else! Say it! " 
 
 "I I love Adi, lieber Gott, could I but 
 stay so forever in your strong arms! " 
 
 " Forever, darling! You have said it! Kurt 
 shall at once take us to be wedded. We will 
 go to the American legation. The ambassador 
 will make me an under-secretary. As my wife, 
 you will be an American citizen, and no German 
 will have authority over you." 
 
 "But Kurt!" panted Elsa. "He cannot 
 escape . . . The herr count told me when he 
 made me agree to the be-betrothal he told me 
 he would have Kurt shot shot for mutiny, if 
 I refused him! " 
 
 ' ' The beast ! Beloved, forgive me ! I thought 
 it only your lack of will. No wonder, though, 
 you agreed, when he was brutal enough to 
 bludgeon you with that threat! >: 
 
 Elsa began to weep. 
 
 " Ach! acJi! If only Kurt were safe, I could 
 go with you, my Allan, and be happy! I could 
 even disobey the mother ! . . . Kurt makes light 
 of his danger. He says the herr count cannot 
 harm him. But I know I know! When I 
 told the herr count what Kurt said, he smiled 
 ach-l that smile! and ho answered, if the 
 court-martial did not condemn Kurt, then there 
 should be a duel... He has killed three officers 
 already. He is a terrible duelist! "
 
 338 The Blond Beast 
 
 "Duel?" muttered Thorpe " Duel? " 
 
 The girl read his thought in the icy harden- 
 ing of his eyes. Her arms flung up about his 
 neck in frantic entreaty. 
 
 " Do not not challenge him! " she gasped. 
 " He will not fight you. He will call you a 
 spy. . .That also he has told me. Many persons 
 have been shot as spies even Americans ! . . . 
 Lieber Gott! There is no way to turn no 
 way! If you are killed, or if Kurt is killed, 
 I shall die!" 
 
 Thorpe clenched his jaw to hold back a groan. 
 What the cruelly tortured girl had said was 
 true. There was no way out. Von Pappheim 
 had them fast. He had won, not by braveness 
 or skill, but by craft and brutal disregard for 
 all moral considerations. Thorpe, like Kurt, 
 might have made light of the danger to himself; 
 and Elsa had said she would even disobey her 
 mother. But the way to their elopement was 
 barred. Von Pappheim had Kurt in such posi- 
 tion that for them to escape, they must tread 
 on the trigger of the set-gun that was pointed 
 at Kurt's heart. 
 
 A broken whisper forced out between Thorpe's 
 stiffened lips: " Why, then did you come? " 
 
 The ready tears gushed into Elsa's grief- 
 darkened eyes and rolled down her satiny cheeks. 
 
 "To to say farewell! " she sobbed. 
 " Kurt said it would not be wicked to-day. But 
 to-morrow then I can no longer love you. 
 The mother has said it." 
 
 Thorpe drew her up still closer in a despair- 
 ing embrace. . .Her clinging arms and innocent,
 
 Broken Ties 339 
 
 agonized child eyes were more than he could 
 endure. He thrust himself away from her and 
 plunged out of the limousine, to rush off through 
 the icy sleet, too distracted to know what 
 he was doing. The sleet beat down pitilessly 
 upon his bare head and in through the open 
 front of his raincoat. He was drenched when 
 at last he staggered into his lodging house. 
 
 The next morning his landlady discovered him 
 tossing in the delirium of fever. When he came 
 to consciousness, he found himself in a hospital. 
 Frau von Kissel, in her magnificent Belgian 
 furs, was stroking his whitened hand. She 
 beamed kindly when she saw that his eyes were 
 open and conscious. 
 
 " Good, lieber Allant," she said in a tone 
 of patronizing graciousness. " The nurse says 
 you are safe past the crisis. You have had 
 pneumonia. So foolish of you to run about 
 in the wet! But now you will soon be well, 
 and you can come back as our good friend. 
 The wedding was most lovely and grand. It 
 was military and Kurt also was much noticed. 
 But, of course, the center of all eyes was my 
 high-born son-in-law, the lieber Wolf! " 
 
 A faint whisper breathed from between 
 Thorpe's fever-parched lips: " So you've 
 thrown your own lamb to the wolf! " 
 
 He shut his eyes and turned away his head . . . 
 Frau von Kissel did not again come to the 
 hospital. 
 
 In the two weeks that passed before Thorpe 
 could return to his lodgings Kurt came often 
 to visit. He was still on leave.
 
 340 The Blond Beast 
 
 No word of Lucy had been received. From 
 the west end of the Aisne entrenched line, the 
 Germans were working north past Cambrai 
 towards the Channel, against the French and 
 English, each side striving to out-flank the other. 
 Von Pappheim had been ordered to staff duty 
 at Brussels, and had taken Elsa with him 
 to the great distress and anxiety of the mother. 
 The Belgian army had been driven back into 
 Antwerp, which was besieged and under bom- 
 bardment. 
 
 Thorpe felt mildly grateful to his friend and 
 rather enjoyed his visits. Otherwise he looked 
 upon everything and everybody, upon the war, 
 upon life itself, with an indifference that verged 
 on morbid apathy. Even his grief over Elsa 
 seemed to have been deadened. After he left 
 the hospital, a full week passed before he began 
 to think of returning to America, 
 
 The day of the fall of Antwerp Kurt rushed 
 in on his friend to tell the news, and to supple- 
 ment it with an item of personal interest to 
 them both. He himself had received the Bed 
 Eagle, and this was the joyful surprise he 
 had for his friend the Iron Cross was to be 
 given to Thorpe. 
 
 " Think of it! " he exulted. " You, a civilian 
 an American and only in the Bed Cross 
 service; yet to win so high an honor Won- 
 derful! glorious! Not but what you deserve 
 it, and more, too yet a civilian and a neutral ! 
 Think of it! " 
 
 Thorpe thought. He thought at first coldly; 
 then with a growing heat whose burning at last
 
 Broken Ties 341 
 
 stung and quickened his benumbed sensibili- 
 ties to acute life. 
 
 "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Kurt; 
 but stop and think yourself," he said. " Is the 
 Iron Cross in good taste for a Bed Cross 
 worker? Would you bestow the Bed Cross on 
 Von Pappheim? " 
 
 Kurt flushed and stood silent. 
 
 " You see the point," went on Thorpe. "I've 
 tried all along to say nothing. You're my friend, 
 and you're as civilized as an American. You 
 could not fight other than fair. But you can 
 guess how I feel towards the cold-blooded merci- 
 less devil's disciples of frightfulness that have 
 crucified and are crucifying Belgium and north- 
 ern France. I mean the men higher up, the 
 ones who are peddling out these crosses. If 
 the All-Highest himself offered me his own 
 insignia of the Order of the Golden Fleece on 
 a silver platter, I wouldn't touch it with tongs. 
 The chances are there would be a wolf inside 
 the fleece. That's what I think-" 
 
 " Allan! Allan! If you knew how you make 
 me suffer! " 
 
 " No, don't blame it on me. It's the damna- 
 ble truth that hurts you." 
 
 " The Czar's Government is far worse! " 
 
 " I doubt it. That could not be humanly 
 or inhumanly possible. Anyway, two wrongs 
 don't make a right. Your mail-fisted, iron- 
 heeled, divine-right lords are busy with their 
 shiny swords making a hell on earth. Before 
 this war ends I have an idea that your whole 
 people will themselves be in that hell. You
 
 342 The Blond Beast 
 
 should be able to see it yourself as a possi- 
 bility, at least. You saw the invincible war- 
 machine withdrawn strategically from the Marne. 
 A new hell made in Germany! At home the 
 preaching of hatred as a noble passion ; through- 
 out the invaded regions the systematic, scien- 
 tific, methodical enactment of frightfulness 
 pillaging, burning, shooting of prisoners, rap- 
 ing of women, killing and torturing of children 
 ...And all this by the nation that has vaunted 
 to the world about its kultur, its leadership in 
 civilization, its superiority over all mankind as 
 the highest and noblest of all the races! I 
 tell you, when the world realizes ' ' 
 
 Kurt covered his face with his hands. The 
 gesture was more effective than any spoken 
 entreaty. Thorpe caught himself up. 
 
 " All right, old man. I'm not going to rub 
 it in. But you see how impossible it would be 
 for me to accept one of those iron symbols of 
 crucified Belgium. Just quietly let the higher- 
 ups know I must decline the honor because 
 American citizens are not permitted to accept 
 decorations without a special act of Congress. 
 That is true of our officials and officers, and it 
 will serve." 
 
 The young Prussian, who had rushed to his 
 friend in a glow of joyous exultation, went 
 away drooping and dejected. 
 
 Eoused from his apathy, Thorpe settled his 
 few accounts and made ready for the coming 
 journey. The following day he went to the 
 American embassy. The offer of his services 
 as courier to England was accepted.* He was
 
 Broken Ties 343 
 
 formally appointed an attache and sent to the 
 Imperial Foreign Office in Wilhelmstrasse to 
 have his regular passport and a special one 
 as attache courier viseed by the Geheimer 
 Legationsrat. 
 
 The move was made none too soon. When 
 he returned to his lodgings he surprised a pair 
 of military secret service men methodically fer- 
 reting through all his books, writings, letters 
 and outfit. No apologies were made even when 
 he showed his attache passport. On the con- 
 trary, he was held prisoner while the search 
 continued. Only after urgent demand could he 
 obtain permission to telephone to the embassy. 
 
 An attache replied in what the listening secret 
 service men very naturally mistook for code: 
 "Keep on your shirt, old man. We're going 
 to bat." 
 
 Certain wires must have sizzled. As the fer- 
 rets gathered up the papers that they suspected 
 might be suspicious, and ordered Thorpe to 
 come with them to the police station, the tele- 
 phone buzzed with an urgent call from Wilhelm- 
 strasse. Promptly followed ungracious guttural 
 apologies for the " so-regretful mistake," and 
 Thorpe found himself alone with all his posses- 
 siors. He gathered up the hastily dropped 
 papers, repacked his baggage, and went to the 
 legation. 
 
 When he was motored to the train in an 
 embassy car, he held in his own hands a pouch 
 of diplomatic correspondence and the dispatch- 
 box containing the jewels and other valuables 
 of Lucy's friend, the duchess.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 ON THE BELIEF 
 
 The trip from Berlin across the flat country 
 to the Holland border was as uneventful as 
 it was uninteresting, except that midway the 
 train was delayed for hours by a movement 
 of troop and munition trains. This brought 
 Thorpe to Bentheim, on the frontier, at dusk. 
 
 In the custom house, demand was made that 
 he turn over for inspection the official sealed 
 pieces with his other baggage. He showed his 
 courier's passport, and clung fast to the pouch 
 and satchel and dispatch-box. As a result he 
 was held all night under guard. The Germans 
 may have hoped he would fall asleep and give 
 them a chance to pry into the sealed packages. 
 Seals can be detached and replaced by experts. 
 
 But Thorpe was too well posted on German 
 methods to be caught napping. He kept alertly 
 awake, and wrote a telegram to the American 
 ambassador every hour. Even Prussian con- 
 tempt for international law had not yet reached 
 the audacity of committing violence on the dip- 
 lomatic representative of a powerful neutral. 
 Whether his telegrams were sent or delivered 
 Thorpe never knew. But in the morning his 
 minutely inspected personal baggage was re- 
 
 344
 
 On the Relief 345 
 
 turned, and permission was given for him to 
 cross over the heavily guarded frontier. 
 
 The passage to Holland was like emerging 
 into the open air and sunshine from a prison 
 surcharged with irritating, exciting poison fumes. 
 Even the stout Netherlander soldiers showed 
 the difference. Despite their martial uniforms 
 and rifles, the round rosy cheeks under their 
 pompomed caps showed the placidity of peace 
 and good-nature. Here was no fever of war, 
 no hate, no terror. The only signs of the hell- 
 storm that was raging over Belgium were the 
 groups of wretched refugees that Thorpe met 
 in crossing the land of dykes to his port. Many 
 as there were of these Belgian unfortunates, his 
 war-glutted eyes passed them by almost unno- 
 ticed in the restful phlegmatic calm of Holland 
 life. 
 
 A few hours of relaxation in the grateful 
 atmosphere of peace, and he came back with 
 a jolt to the grim realities of the war nightmare. 
 His steamer was jammed with refugees, all hag- 
 gard from privation and red-eyed with much 
 weeping. Most were still dazed and dumb. 
 Some bore wounds among them a little girl 
 who had been bayoneted through the arm, and 
 a still littler boy whose right hand had been cut 
 off at the wrist. But harder for many to 
 bear than the physical pain and hardships was 
 the anguish of separation from loved ones. 
 There were wives who had lost their husbands, 
 mothers their children, children their parents, 
 in the panic-stricken flight of a people before 
 the ravaging gray wolves of frightfulness.
 
 346 The Blond Beast 
 
 Nor were the wretched exiles yet safe from 
 their barbarous persecutors. German mines, 
 set afloat or planted in the sea ways, had already 
 sunk over twenty ships. Hardly three weeks 
 past, a single German submarine had torpedoed 
 three British light cruisers within an hour or 
 less. The new sea terrors were known to be 
 lurking near the Channel. According to gen- 
 eral belief, only ships of war needed to fear 
 their torpedoes. But Thorpe felt by no means 
 sure of this. He had seen German warfare 
 on land. 
 
 The misery of the refugees was increased 
 by the roughness of the passage across the cor- 
 ner of the North Sea, a passage prolonged 
 by the need of the ship to follow a zigzag 
 course through the known mine fields. The 
 few Belgians who were not seasick found diffi- 
 culty in getting food. The saloon floor was 
 a-whirl with fragments of dishes that had jumped 
 the table racks in the wild plunging and rolling 
 of the ship. To escape the sight of his suffering 
 fellow-passengers, Thorpe borrowed a suit of 
 oilskins and spent hours on the storm-flooded 
 decks. The howl of the gale, the lowering 
 clouds, the foam-blotched black-green wave moun- 
 tains that tossed the steamer skyward, only 
 to drop it with a dizzy slump into their yawn- 
 ing liquid valleys all were in keeping with 
 his mood of gloomy uneasiness. Even after 
 the wave-battered steamer fought its way safe 
 into port, his restlessness and depression did 
 not lessen until he witnessed the warm-hearted 
 welcome given by the English to the refugee
 
 On the Relief 347 
 
 Belgians the moment the ship reached the wharf. 
 
 He was agreeably astonished at this new aspect 
 of English life. On his way to Germany from 
 America he had passed through the Mother 
 Country of Anglo-Saxon civilization. But his 
 prejudiced eyes had seen only the fog and reek 
 of the political squabblings, the hysteria of the 
 suffragettes, and the squalor of the slums. All 
 the year in Germany he had had dinned into 
 his ears constant assertions that the British 
 were envious, low-minded money-grubbers, fairly 
 successful on the sea, but incapable of devoting 
 themselves to the heroism of land warfare. 
 
 His return now found the Tight Little Island 
 in the throes of a tremendous military prepara- 
 tion. A self-contained nation that with only 
 half attention had read about the heroic sacri- 
 fice of its little professional army, now had 
 been inflamed to war-fury by the dropping of 
 Zeppelin bombs among its women and children. 
 Everywhere volunteers were drilling, some with 
 sticks, all without rifles. Territorials hardly less 
 raw were embarking for the front, to the blare 
 and shout of " Tipperary." Crowds surged 
 about posters that told the young men their 
 king and country had need of them. 
 
 Thorpe went direct to the American embassy, 
 to deliver the dispatch-pouch and leave the dis- 
 patch-box and his gold for safe keeping. An 
 attache casually inquired^ whether he had any 
 idea of joining the Belgian Relief. 
 
 " What's that? " asked Thorpe. 
 
 "Haven't you heard? The Germans have 
 requisitioned the Belgian crops and other food
 
 348 The Blond Beast 
 
 supplies. An American engineer over here 
 man named Hoover heads a commission that 
 is trying to feed the starving population. He 
 has a bunch of our college graduates running 
 that end." 
 
 Thorpe shook his head. 
 
 "I'd like to help, but I'm too fed up with 
 this war stuff, as the English say. I'm going 
 back to God's country. A man can stand only 
 so much. I was in the lines Red Cross 
 from Dinant down across the Marne and back 
 to the Aisne." 
 
 " Indeed? Must have been a great show. 
 Something to remember." 
 
 " To forget to get thousands of miles away 
 from! " burst out Thorpe. " If I should tell 
 you what I've seen, you wouldn't believe it 
 you couldn't. Do you do our people at home 
 believe what has happened to the civilian 
 population of Belgium and North France what 
 is happening to-day? No, not one person in 
 a thousand. It's unbelievable unthinkable! 
 Even when youVe seen with your own eyes, 
 it's so horrible it seems unreal... But it sticks 
 in a man's memory. . .And the hellish work of 
 the shells men and beasts torn, mashed, blown 
 to pieces . . . God ! I want to get away I want 
 to forget! " 
 
 " Well, no one can blame you, if that's the 
 way you feel. Maybe you saw what the Presi- 
 dent replied to the Kaiser, last month, about 
 a day of accounting for all wrongs committed. 
 But we can thank our lucky stars we're out of 
 the game. The U. S. is booming along, mopping
 
 On the Relief 349 
 
 up the world's trade. If the war keeps on a 
 few months longer, we'll have an enormous 
 trade balance. I have a tip to go in heavily 
 for powder company and steel stocks. The allies 
 are in the American market with billions to 
 spend. ' ' 
 
 Thorpe frowned. 
 
 " You should hear the Prussians howl over 
 our selling munitions to their enemies. They 
 won't believe it is our right under international 
 law. Yet they sold munitions to the Spaniards 
 to fight us. What I wonder is that we don't 
 pitch in and help free Belgium. However, if 
 food is being taken in by a competent com- 
 mission " 
 
 11 Competent? You should have seen the way 
 Mr. Hoover cleared up the jam of tourists that 
 stampeded from all over Europe and stranded 
 here, those first rush weeks.*' 
 
 " That reminds me," said Thorpe. "I'd like 
 to inquire about Miss Carew, an old friend. 
 She probably came through from Brussels three 
 weeks or a month ago." 
 
 "Carew? " 
 
 ' * Lucy Carew. You must remember her 
 young, green eyes, copper-gold hair, lots of 
 personality. ' ' 
 
 " No. . .Wait. I had a letter from the secre- 
 tary of our Minister to Belgium only a day 
 or two ago. He mentioned a Miss Carew as 
 helping the Belgian Relief said she was a 
 corker. ' ' 
 
 Thorpe jumped up. " What's the address 
 of this Mr. Hoover? "
 
 350 The Blond Beast 
 
 Morning found him aboard one of the Belgium 
 Belief ships, with instructions to report for 
 service at Brussels. Back across the Channel, 
 zigzagging to avoid mine fields; then up the 
 Scheldt, through tranquil, peace-blessed Holland, 
 to German-shelled, German-clutched Antwerp. 
 
 His passport and credentials and fluent Ger- 
 man speech won the new Relief worker easy 
 passage of the military cordon. He went direct 
 to the Commission's offices in Antwerp. 
 
 A battered little coupe was standing at the 
 curb before the door. On the front of the 
 muddied hood fluttered an American flag. Almost 
 reverently Thorpe turned to lift his hat to the 
 emblem of his country. . .The door of the coupe 
 flew open. A young lady, dressed in hard-worn 
 khaki and leather, sprang out to grasp his hand 
 and pump it up and down. 
 
 * ' Why, Lan ! You old surprise party ! What 
 are you doing here? " 
 
 " Grinning," said Thorpe. " Ought to be 
 cussing. I see you still haven't got sense enough 
 to go in when it rains, and all Belgium in the 
 Hun deluge! " 
 
 She flashed a smiling glance at the bleak driz- 
 zling clouds. 
 
 " Oh, I've turned into a Flanders goose." 
 
 " Well, you've given me a wild-goose chase. 
 I thought you were safe across the duck-pond 
 weeks ago. Thought you'd be as glad as I 
 was to head for home." 
 
 The girl's sparkling eyes clouded and darkened. 
 
 " But this proves it was the same with you 
 as with me," she said. " We know what has
 
 On the Relief 351 
 
 happened is happening. We couldn't help 
 staying to do our bit." 
 
 " I could have, if it hadn't been for you," 
 rejoined Thorpe. " It was like pulling teeth, 
 but I had to stop my home run and join the 
 Belief to get over here and look after you. 
 Kurt told me that Von Pappheim had been 
 ordered to Brussels." 
 
 The rich rose in Lucy's cheeks deepened and 
 as quickly faded. 
 
 " You shouldn't have come, Lan. Herr Count 
 is very civil rather too much so, if anything. 
 And with Kurt coming. . .Elsa wired him about 
 me; so he waived sick leave and asked for a 
 detail to Brussels. She received his telegram 
 last night. But you, Lan! For you to see 
 the way he treats her... Better take charge of 
 a district over towards Liege." 
 
 Thorpe set his jaw. 
 
 "I'm ordered to Brussels. Besides, it's not 
 a question of myself now. I've seen Pappheim 
 in action. It's up to me to stand by till you're 
 married to Kurt or aboard ship. ' ' 
 
 The color flooded back into Lucy's cheeks. 
 
 " Run in and tell Mr. Burlew he will have 
 to walk to Brussels, as I've found a handsomer 
 man. Oh, don't be afraid of hurting his feel- 
 ings. He'll know you're not, as soon as he 
 sees you. And he was going merely because 
 he's afraid I'm not to be trusted oui; alone." 
 
 " A wooden Indian would know that," said 
 Thorpe. 
 
 Burlew closely resembled the Apollo Belve- 
 dere, and was not glad to lose the ride with
 
 352 The Blond Beast 
 
 Miss Carew. He shook hands with the new 
 helper all the way out to the coupe. 
 
 " No," said Lucy, as Thorpe offered to drive. 
 11 Ed will tell you I'm the only one versed in 
 the multifarious idiosyncrasies of this dolorous 
 vehicle. You can be the shover whenever it 
 skids into a shell hole. Au revoir, Ed. Isn't 
 it nice I've found a substitute to save you 
 the trip? " 
 
 The creaking, clattering coupe started off 
 along the street. Thorpe glanced back at the 
 Greek god. 
 
 11 How about it, Loo? My guess is that Ed 
 could have found fortitude to set his teeth 
 and endure your company for an hour or two 
 without perishing. ' ' 
 
 " Not if I could help it. He has proposed 
 five times already, once for every trip, though 
 I showed him Kurt's ring. It's getting 
 monotonous. Want to go around by way of 
 Louvain? " 
 
 Thorpe shuddered. * ' I saw Dinant ... Do you 
 remember that old-fashioned Thanksgiving we 
 spent at your aunt's in the country? " 
 
 " When you rescued me from the mooley 
 cow! " 
 
 The coupe clattered and bumped and skidded 
 along the broken muddy road, past cleared bar- 
 ricades and futile trenches. The drizzle of the 
 leaden sky chilled into sleet. But the pair 
 within the decrepit rattletrap had soared away 
 on the wings of fancy, back through time and 
 space to the sunny golden days of peace and 
 childhood.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 THE EAGLE'S BEAK 
 
 At Brussels Lucy had rooms in a pension 
 with the family of an elderly attache. Thorpe 
 stopped for the night at the Relief Commission's 
 quarters. From there he was sent out to look 
 over the situation around Ghent and towards 
 Bruges, where the German army that had taken 
 Antwerp was driving at Ostend. To cover the 
 ground he successfully tinkered the engine and 
 tires of a disreputable old racing car, which 
 the Germans had considered too worthless to 
 be requisitioned. 
 
 When he returned to Brussels he found Kurt 
 calling on Lucy. There was a moment of con- 
 straint, due to Kurt's flush and involuntary 
 betrayal of resentment. But Thorpe mistook 
 this for embarrassment. He was quite uncon- 
 scious of any other feeling towards Lucy than 
 affectionate friendship, and so could not con- 
 ceive that Kurt was jealous. The warmth of 
 his greeting thawed the young officer's coolness, 
 especially when he noticed the changed insignia 
 on Kurt's uniform and congratulated him upon 
 his promotion to a captaincy. 
 
 Lucy studied Thorpe through her lashes. 
 
 " Kurt's train just reached Brussels," she 
 
 353
 
 354 The Blond Beast 
 
 explained. " We're going to see Elsa. Come 
 along. You may as well make the plunge now 
 as later." 
 
 " I hadn't expected " he hesitated. " Yet 
 if you say so " 
 
 He followed the couple out into the gray 
 drizzle. 
 
 The Von Pappheim establishment was large. 
 The Belgian owner of the mansion had been 
 provided lodgings in prison, and all of Elsa's 
 new fortune was now controlled by her husband. 
 In the portico stood an alert orderly, who gave 
 the inevitable Prussian military touch to the 
 menage. 
 
 " Ja, the Countess Wolf von Pappheim is at 
 home, though indisposed. Her brother Captain 
 von Kissel? Ja, ja. There is no order against 
 the countess receiving her brother. Be pleased 
 to enter." 
 
 They were conducted by a hard-featured Ger- 
 man housekeeper through a magnificent suite 
 to a small sewing room. Elsa sat alone, meekly 
 bowed over the tiny garment to which she was 
 sewing a narrow edging of lace. 
 
 At the first word of the housekeeper's 
 announcement of the callers, the young bride 
 started as if frightened, and hastily wiped away 
 the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. 
 Her first glance perceived only Kurt, who had 
 sprung ahead to embrace her. 
 
 Thorpe held back behind Lucy, striving hard 
 to conceal and repress the upwelling of com- 
 passion that threatened to master him. One 
 look had shown him that the dew-fresh half-
 
 The Eagle's Beak 355 
 
 blown rosebud whom he had wooed in the garden 
 of Montmar was no more. The wife of Wolf 
 von Pappheim was a colorless lily, already 
 broken in spirit and beginning to wilt. 
 
 At a sharp command from Kurt, the primly 
 on-looking housekeeper left the room with sour 
 reluctance. Kurt patted his weeping sister on 
 the back and wiped her streaming eyes. 
 
 " Smile, little sister! Here are dear friends, 
 come with me to call on you.'* 
 
 Lucy drew Thorpe forward and covered the 
 sudden shrinking of Elsa with a tactfulness that 
 purposely misconstrued its cause. 
 
 " No wonder you take Lan for a ghost, honey. 
 I, too, thought he was in America, when he 
 bobbed up. He came to help the Belief Didn't 
 expect the honor of meeting the Countess von 
 Pappheim." 
 
 The deft mention of her title brought the 
 bride's head up and gave Thorpe his cue. 
 
 " May I felicitate you on the magnificence 
 of your home, Countess? It is perfectly in keep- 
 ing with your high rank." 
 
 Elsa found strength to stand without clinging 
 to her brother. 
 
 " You are most kind to say it, Herr Thorpe. 
 Please all be seated. I shall ring for 
 refreshments. ' ' 
 
 Thorpe at once began to talk about his new 
 work as though he had no other thought or 
 interest. This bridged the interval until the 
 .serving of a characteristic German afternoon 
 luncheon. Kurt had missed his noon meal. He 
 attacked the sausages and beer. Elsa, still
 
 356 The Blond Beast 
 
 tearful-eyed, promptly followed his lead. Neither 
 noticed how Thorpe's face fell. He declined the 
 food and hastily drained one cup of coffee after 
 another. Lucy nibbled at a caviare sandwich 
 and lingered over her cup of tea, as she thought- 
 fully watched the brother and sister clear away 
 the luncheon. 
 
 The Americans could not refuse to drink when 
 Kurt proposed a toast to the Belief Commis- 
 sion. Thorpe responded with a toast of felici- 
 tation to the new captain. The second glass 
 of champagne, following the beer, brought a 
 flush of color into Elsa's wan face and an 
 unnatural brightness into her grief -dulled eyes. 
 She began to tell Thorpe with feverish gaiety 
 about her presentation as a countess before 
 Majestdt and about the high court functions 
 that she had already attended. 
 
 Thorpe listened with grave attentiveness, and 
 drank more coffee. Kurt, overcome with ardent 
 adoration, moved his chair around beside Lucy's 
 and asserted his betrothal right to hold her 
 hand in his fond clasp. He was begging her 
 for a kiss when she shrugged and motioned 
 towards the entrance. 
 
 Von Pappheim stood in the doorway, cynic- 
 ally smiling. Kurt's involuntary exclamation 
 drew Elsa's attention to her husband. She 
 stopped short in the midst of a shrill sentence, 
 her mouth agape with fright. All the color was 
 as if blotted out of her cheeks. Her eyes dilated. 
 As Von Pappheim advanced, she cowered as 
 if expecting a blow. His cruel smile changed 
 to suave gallantry. He bowed low to Lucy.
 
 The Eagle's Beak 357 
 
 " Most charming fraulein, the pleasure is 
 great to see you at my table with our lieber 
 Kurt and the good Herr Thorpe. You have 
 heard how your so-modest countryman declined 
 the Iron Cross? No? He has a fine sense of 
 propriety. He realized how inappropriate it 
 would be for an American to accept a medal 
 conferred for heroism. Americans are too proud 
 to fight nicht?" 
 
 11 Maybe," murmured Lucy. " But I'm won- 
 dering what would happen if someone should 
 try to lower our pride." 
 
 This was rather too abstruse for the Teutonic 
 mind to take in without rumination. Von Papp- 
 heim covered his perplexity with a bland smile 
 and redoubled gallantry. 
 
 " Ach, gracious fraulein, I must tell of that 
 Iron Cross while I show to you the delightful 
 orchids of my conservatory. You must come 
 and see those orchids." 
 
 Lucy glanced thoughtfully at Thorpe and 
 Elsa, and rose to take Von Pappheim's prof- 
 fered arm. Kurt stared, flushed crimson, and 
 jumped up to follow them from the room. 
 Thorpe and Elsa were left alone. The bride 
 did not see her husband leave. She had drooped 
 over, whiter than ever. Thorpe reached across 
 the luncheon table and filled her glass with 
 champagne. 
 
 " The beast! " he muttered. " There. . .drink 
 that. You must be able to think to answer 
 me." 
 
 Elsa quivered at the sternness of his tone. 
 She raised her upturned eyes to him in a piti-
 
 358 The Blond Beast 
 
 ful, frightened look of inquiry. " What what 
 did you say? " 
 
 " You heard him taunt me," said Thorpe. 
 " He thinks Americans will not fight. They 
 won't unless they're sure they have something 
 worth fighting for . . . Dueling is out of style 
 among civilized people but I have seen Count 
 Wolf von Pappheim at war, and I can imagine 
 his treatment of you. In plain American, it's 
 more than I can stand for." 
 
 An agony of terror seized the girl-wife. She 
 tottered to her feet and stood panting and 
 gasping, her hands clutched hard over her 
 heart 
 
 " Do not do not fight? He will kill you! 
 . . .Shame to me. . .my husband! Even to listen 
 ... so wicked most wicked ! Go far away. . . 
 I beg you to go " 
 
 Thorpe saw her sway. He was quick enough 
 to spring around and catch her as she fell. He 
 called loudly for help. Elsa's face was a 
 deathly grayish white. There was no response 
 to his calls. He lifted the swooning bride and 
 rushed towards the adjoining room, where he 
 remembered having seen a lounge. As he hur- 
 ried through the doorway he all but collided 
 with Von Pappheim. 
 
 With a guttural curse, the Prussian seized 
 the flaccid body of his wife and tore her out 
 of Thorpe's arms. In the face of his half insane 
 fury, any attempt at explanations would have 
 been futile. Thorpe quietly stepped past him 
 and went out through the suite of rooms. Lucy 
 and Kurt were nowhere in sight.
 
 The Eagle's Beak 359 
 
 He left the mansion and hunted up one of 
 his new American acquaintances. 
 
 " Lee," he said, " you're a Virginian. You've 
 seen samples of applied German kultur. I'm 
 expecting a Prussian officer to challenge me. 
 Can I count on you? " 
 
 " Sure. We'll make it brickbats at forty rods 
 or forty-two centimeter howitzers at five." 
 
 " I'm not joking, Lee. It's that Von Papp- 
 heim you had a set-to with for stealing half the 
 flour shipped to your district." 
 
 ' ' That tow-headed buzzard f Wheel Got your 
 coffin ordered? How '11 you take yours cold 
 steel or lead? " 
 
 " Lead. I don't know enough about fencing 
 to go through the motions." 
 
 " All right. Lead she is. Anything to accom- 
 modate. It'll be a deuced nuisance, though, 
 losing your services. There *s a shipment through 
 Ghent that you might look after while you're 
 waiting for the hearse." 
 
 Thorpe's deadly earnestness cracked into a 
 half reluctant grin. 
 
 " You're a peach of a Job's comforter, you 
 are! Dig up the invoices of that shipment muy 
 pronto, or I'll challenge you." 
 
 Invoices and instructions were promptly forth- 
 coming. Thorpe took the shipment to the dis- 
 tributing agents, who were up the Lys River, 
 southwest from Ghent, towards Ypres and Lille. 
 In three days he was back again at Brussels. 
 His first act was to call on Lee. 
 
 " Nothing doing," reported the Virginian. 
 " No buzz from the buzzard. He must be eat-
 
 360 The Blond Beast 
 
 ing crow or hatching out rattlesnake eggs. 
 By the way, Miss Carew wanted you to call her 
 up, soon as you pulled in ... At her pension . . . 
 Bather done up, I'm afraid. Looked kind of 
 pale under the gills. Say, but she's the real 
 goods. Seems her German fiance brought on a 
 slew of trunks for her from Berlin. She has 
 turned all over for the Belgian ladies that the 
 Huns stripped." 
 
 Thorpe was already half through the doorway. 
 
 When he reached the pension and impetuously 
 burst into Lucy's reception room, Kurt was 
 pacing the floor, too perturbed to stand still. 
 Lucy sat at the table, as quiescent as her fiance 
 was restless. The corners of her mouth drooped. 
 There were black circles under her eyes. The 
 look she gave Thorpe was dart with misery 
 and despair. 
 
 " Oh, Lan! If only we could have wired you 
 to try breaking through the lines! No chance 
 any other way." 
 
 " What has that devil done now? " demanded 
 Thorpe. 
 
 Kurt tried to speak, choked, and turned away 
 with a gesture of impotence. Lucy's face had 
 flamed scarlet. 
 
 "He wants me," she murmured. "You 
 are to testify to relations with Elsa that will 
 give him a divorce, or I am to be his with- 
 out marriage. * ' 
 
 Thorpe found himself of a sudden strangely 
 cool. 
 
 " What's the alternative? " he asked. 
 
 " Court-martial for the both of us as spies,"
 
 The Eagle's Beak 361 
 
 answered Lucy in a hopeless, listless tone. " You 
 remember those silly snapshots of mine and 
 that he found them at Montmar? With them 
 was some of my writing. He has forged enough 
 more to condemn you also. I have inquired 
 of our Minister to Belgium. If we are arrested, 
 he can do no more than protest. Now that 
 Belgium is conquered, he stays here only on 
 sufferance. ' ' 
 
 11 I see. Well, Kurt, how about you? Are 
 you going to stand for it? " 
 
 Kurt flung out his quivering passion-crooked 
 hands. 
 
 " God smite that devil! She is mine mine! 
 He has wrecked my sister 's life . . . Now he 
 wants my betrothed also! But he shall not 
 have her! " 
 
 " You'll challenge him? " 
 
 "It is too late ! If only I had known this 
 morning ! . . . Lucy waited till I came here to take 
 leave. The crafty devil had me ordered to Lille. 
 There is no time for a court of honor to arrange 
 a meeting. I must start this evening. . .But I 
 cannot endure it! I will first go and shoot him 
 down like the beast he is! Ill tear out his 
 black heart I'll " 
 
 " Hold on, old man," said Thorpe, and he 
 blocked the way of his outrushing friend. " That 
 would be called murder by our highly Jcultured 
 disciples of frightfulness. Why not try a little 
 strategy? " 
 
 " He is too crafty! There is only the one 
 way. I must ' ' 
 
 " Cut it! Listen Suppose you invite me
 
 362 The Blond Beast 
 
 and Von Pappheim and a few other officers to 
 a little farewell dinner? I will create a diver- 
 sion, during which you and Lucy can slip out 
 of the city together. She can travel as your 
 wife or as a Red Cross nurse. There must be 
 some way by which you can smuggle her out 
 through the lines to the British." 
 
 "But that devil he will follow! He will 
 overtake us! " 
 
 " If he does, you'll still have your pistol. But 
 I will do what I can to keep him here. If I 
 have luck, you'll see me instead of him." 
 
 Lucy's eyes glowed. " I'll let you try it, Lan. 
 It's better for you than a wall and a firing 
 squad. You'll challenge him? " 
 
 " No. He'll challenge me." 
 
 " Impossible! " exclaimed Kurt. " You are 
 only a civilian, and he has the more certain 
 way of getting rid of you." 
 
 " Wait and see. Hop lively, old man. Land 
 him first; then at least half a dozen other offi- 
 cers young ones. So-long, Loo I " 
 
 Lucy clung to his hand while she held her 
 cheek for Kurt's fervent but hasty kiss. 
 
 At the street door Thorpe held back until 
 Kurt had turned the corner before he started 
 for Belief headquarters. On arriving there, he 
 wrote out his resignation. This he sealed up 
 and gave to Lee, with the request to ' ' misplace ' r 
 it for a day or two. 
 
 An hour later Kurt was introducing him to 
 seven young staff officers in a private dining 
 room of Brussels' most fashionable hotel. All 
 were very cordial, for Von Pappheim had not
 
 The Eagle's Beak 363 
 
 yet arrived, and Kurt exaggerated Thorpe's 
 services as volunteer during the campaign to 
 the Marne. There followed a rather prolonged 
 delay. Thorpe suggested a champagne toast 
 to good-fellowship. It was drunk standing. 
 
 As the empty glasses were lowered, Von Papp- 
 heim came in, rather more haughty than usual. 
 He drew himself up while his juniors clicked 
 heels and saluted. Thorpe had taken a position 
 near the entrance. He stepped up to Von Papp- 
 heim from the side and spoke to him in a clear- 
 cut, deliberate tone that reached every ear in 
 the room: 
 
 " Count von Pappheim, permit me to observe 
 that I do not like the shape of your nose." 
 
 With the swift jab of a boxer, his hand darted 
 up to grasp the objectionable feature. The 
 astounded count tottered after his outraged nose 
 half across the room before Thorpe released 
 his grip and coolly stepped clear. 
 
 From the other guests came gasps and mur- 
 murs, followed by a single derisive titter. Von 
 Pappheim jerked his sword from the scabbard 
 and found himself looking into the muzzle 
 of his brother-in-law's pistol. 
 
 " Gentlemen, kindly do not interfere," Kurt 
 called to his guests. " As you perceive, this 
 is an affair of honor." 
 
 11 Not on the part of Count von Pappheim," 
 broke in Thorpe. " He is a poltroon, a " 
 
 " Liar! spy! " shouted the insulted major. " I 
 will have you shot, you schwemhund! ' 
 
 * * You hear him, gentlemen afraid to meet 
 me afraid to challenge one of those meek
 
 364 The Blond Beast 
 
 Americans who never will fight! On his breast 
 the Red Eagle. Within it" 
 
 " Donnerwetter! " cursed Von Pappheim, up- 
 lifting his sword. 
 
 Thorpe pulled a doleful face. " So sad, night? 
 Under the Red Eagle a chicken heart. But on 
 his face an eagle beak ja, ja, a red eagle 
 beak." 
 
 Von Pappheim 's rage froze into icy malig- 
 nancy. He lowered his sword. 
 
 " God with me! " he blasphemed. " I will 
 slice off your ears. I will- " 
 
 The hideousness of the last threat made even 
 his fellow officers shudder as they came in 
 between him and the two friends. Thorpe nudged 
 Kurt to leave, and replied to the threatener with 
 punctilious politeness : 
 
 " The second of Count Wolf von Pappheim 
 will be welcomed by my friend, Mr. Lee, of the 
 Relief Commission. The Herr Count is requested 
 to bear in mind that the slightest attempt to 
 prefer any false charges of espionage before 
 this affair is concluded, will obtrude the red 
 eagle's beak into every newspaper from Berlin 
 to Hong Kong. I see that the delicacy of Cap- 
 tain von KissePs position has forced him to 
 withdraw. But I know he will be grieved if his 
 uninvolved guests do not remain to dine and 
 drink success to him at the Front." 
 
 All except Von Pappheim responded to the 
 parting bow of the American with unfeigned 
 cordiality that held more than a hint of respect. 
 He had forced a meeting with one of the most 
 dreaded duelists of all Prussia.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 PISTOLS AT SUNRISE. 
 
 The representative sent by Von Pappheim 
 came within the half hour. He was not one 
 of the dinner guests. Lee motioned Thorpe into 
 an adjoining room, and listened to the politely 
 delivered formal challenge with due sobriety. 
 
 " On behalf of my principal, Mr. Thorpe, 
 I take pleasure in accepting the challenge of 
 Count Wolf von Pappheim," he replied. " Our 
 terms are: Fully loaded automatic mauser pis- 
 tols at four paces, principals to stand with 
 weapons down at arm's-length, to begin shoot- 
 ing at the word * Fire * and continue at will." 
 
 " Pardon, Herr Lee. A court of honor would 
 require rapiers or sabres." 
 
 " This is not an army affair. In accordance 
 with the code duello, the challenged party names 
 the terms." 
 
 ' ' But automatics at four paces ! You can- 
 not insist! " 
 
 " Oh, no. We do not insist. We will agree 
 to three paces or two, if you prefer." 
 
 The officer threw up his hands. "Schrecktich! 
 Twenty paces it should be, at the very least." 
 
 " I'd say sixty, with blank cartridges, if it 
 was my affair," gravely remarked the Virginian. 
 
 365
 
 366 The Blond Beast 
 
 " However, every man to his taste. My princi- 
 pal may believe your principal to he a four- 
 flusher. At any rate, four is our limit. We 
 stand pat on that. Do you call us, or do you 
 lay down? " 
 
 " Bitte? " 
 
 11 1 inquire, do you accept the terms for your 
 principal, or do we post him as a poltroon? ' 
 
 The German stiffened. "Accepted. The 
 time and place? " 
 
 " Nearest point of the woods east of the city, 
 at sunrise or at the time the sun should rise 
 if it wasn't for those blamed chilly fogs." 
 
 " Entirely agreeable, Herr Lee. You may 
 expect us punctually." 
 
 Lee bowed him out, and faced about to his 
 cool-eyed principal in the doorway of the inner 
 room. 
 
 " Get that, Thorpe. We're to expect them 
 puncturely. The question now before the house 
 is, who's to be punk, and who's to be punctured. 
 Do the ayes have it, or is it the noes the 
 red eagle noes? " 
 
 " Cut it," said Thorpe. " I'm scared all right, 
 but I'm scared stiff. My knees won't wobble. 
 Of course he'll get me. But I'll have at least 
 a chance to lay him up for repairs until Loo is 
 safe. I've been practising that finger-along-the- 
 barrel stunt you showed me." 
 
 " Good boy! Let's feed and then go by-by. 
 I'll set the old alarm clock for five. Brrrh! 
 Wish we could postpone the joy-ride till noon 
 next June. My artistic soul abhors these Made- 
 in-Flanders October sunrises. They're too chill,
 
 Pistols at Sunrise 367 
 
 too unsympathetic, too ah blank wet-blan- 
 kety. However, a dash of sleet will account for 
 your shivering. Why didn't you insist on three 
 paces and machine-guns I " 
 
 Thorpe ate little, but slept well. Morning 
 found him in the same mood of cool despera- 
 tion. Though the terms of the meeting gave him 
 a fighting chance with his expert enemy, he 
 knew that the odds were heavily against him. 
 He had fired a pistol hardly a dozen times in 
 all his life. But he firmly believed that, unless 
 he was killed outright at the first shot or two, 
 his determination to save Lucy and avenge 
 the abuse of Elsa would enable him to shoot 
 straight. 
 
 He was too absorbed to perceive the real 
 reason why Lee asked for and took his sparkling 
 tie pin and the little American-flag lapel but- 
 ton. Nothing so assists the aim of a duelist as 
 a bright point on the breast of an opponent. 
 Lee's grim jest was that mementos were the 
 rightful perquisites of a second. 
 
 The dank, dripping, morning mists were roll- 
 ing and breaking when Thorpe's rusty but well- 
 engined old racing car brought him and Lee to 
 the place agreed upon for the meeting. A three- 
 seated cabriolet emerged from a wisp of fog 
 just ahead and stopped at sight of the car. 
 Out popped a nervous little German surgeon- 
 lieutenant, who held the door open for the Ger- 
 man second and Von Pappheim. Beside his 
 smaller companions, the count loomed tall and 
 bulky, especially about the chest, which bulged 
 like a pouter pigeon's.
 
 368 The Blond Beast 
 
 " My eye! " derided Lee. " Maybe you can't 
 hit a barn door, but you deserve to be shot 
 if you can't hit the barn itself." 
 
 There was an exchange of exceedingly formal 
 bows, in which the principals did not participate. 
 Von Pappheim, arrogant and impatient, led his 
 party around behind the nearest coppice. Lee 
 and Thorpe followed to within a few yards of 
 where the others halted. The German second 
 came to meet Lee half way. He produced for 
 inspection a pair of mauser automatics and two 
 clips of cartridges. 
 
 " These are lead bullets; not your regular 
 jacketed kind," observed Lee. 
 
 " Ja. We believed your principal would pre- 
 fer bullets that, at short range, are more mur- 
 derous nichtf " 
 
 11 Sure," cheerfully agreed Lee, and he made 
 random choice of a pistol, after both had been 
 loaded by his fellow second. 
 
 The German then drew a line, and stretched 
 his legs in four long strides. 
 
 " Hold on," drawled Lee. " The average pace 
 is only thirty-two inches." 
 
 " But my principal paces a full meter." 
 
 " When returning from the Marne," mur- 
 mured Lee to himself. He spoke out in a tone 
 of flat finality. " We'll split and call it four 
 yards, but your man must toe the scratch. Here's 
 a tape line I brought along as first-aid." 
 
 When the distance had been measured off 
 with scrupulous exactness, the German suavely 
 remarked : ' ' Because of the chill and dampness, 
 my principal will remove only his helmet."
 
 Pistols at Sunrise 369 
 
 " All right," agreed Lee. " We've got the 
 shivers just as bad ourselves. Let's get busy. 
 This affair is getting dangerous. We may all 
 catch la grippe." 
 
 " Bitte? '' blankly murmured the perplexed 
 German. 
 
 Each led his principal to one of the marked 
 positions. They then drew back a few paces 
 together, at right angles to the line of fire. The 
 little surgeon hurried behind a big tree and 
 faced away. In the remote event of a court- 
 martial, he was to be able to take oath that he 
 had seen no shots fired. 
 
 " Attention! " called the German second. 
 " All is now ready. When Herr Lee gives com- 
 mand, you will begin shooting." 
 
 Lee glanced at Thorpe and saw the forefinger 
 of his right hand lying parallel along the down- 
 pointed pistol barrel. This was on the American 
 cavalry theory that an out-thrust forefinger will 
 automatically cover the target, without need of 
 eye-sighting. Lee flicked his glance towards 
 Von Pappheim. The Prussian had braced one 
 foot to the rear and was leaning his protuberant 
 chest forward as if to meet a heavy blow. At 
 this aggressive movement, Thorpe tightened his 
 fists, with the instinctive response of a boxer. 
 The rigidly straight forefinger of his pistol hand 
 crooked back to the trigger, in place of the second 
 finger. 
 
 " Fire! " cried Lee. 
 
 Thorpe's right hand darted forward as if to 
 jab his opponent in the solar plexus. At the 
 same instant his finger began jerking rapidly
 
 370 The Blond Beast 
 
 at the pistol trigger. ..Von Pappheim, with pis- 
 tol only half raised, reeled as if hit on the chest 
 with a sledge, and toppled over backwards. He 
 thudded down flat on his back and lay motion- 
 less, the unfired pistol slipping out of his flaccid 
 hand. A scarlet blotch spread swiftly down 
 through his tow pompadour below the spot struck 
 by the third bullet of Thorpe's up-kicking pistol. 
 
 " Schrecklich! " yelled the astounded German 
 second. " Through the head! Kaput! All 
 that wadding wasted! Donnerwetterl " 
 
 He started to bound forward, and stopped 
 short. Thorpe had pointed his pistol down at 
 the fallen man, and stood poised, waiting for 
 him to move. The little surgeon, half around 
 the tree, popped back again out of sight. But 
 Von Pappheim did not stir. He lay deathly still. 
 Lee stepped forward, and bent over the inert 
 body. 
 
 " Enough, Thorpe," he called. " One in the 
 head and two in the chest, both of which must 
 have " 
 
 The drawling remark broke off abruptly as 
 the utterer's hasty jerk flung open Von Papp- 
 heim 's overcoat. Lee snatched up the unfired 
 pistol, and confronted his fellow second. 
 
 " The skunk! You knew it, too! " 
 
 The German smiled cynically. " Stratagem 
 is the soul of war. A duel is private warfare. 
 The terms agreed upon did not forbid the use 
 of defensive protection." 
 
 " Nor do they forbid my shooting you down 
 for your dirty treachery. Thorpe, come and 
 look while I keep him covered."
 
 Pistols at Sunrise 371 
 
 Thorpe came stiffly forward and stooped down. 
 The cause of Von Pappheim's inflated chest was 
 now self-evident. The upper part of his over- 
 coat was lined with a coverless atlas, half an 
 inch thick. Across the front of his body hung 
 a piece of medieval ring-mail from the Brussels 
 museum. Thorpe drew it aside and jerked open 
 the field-gray uniform coat. Under it was a 
 second wadding of atlas paper, also half an inch 
 thick. He ripped open the shirt. There were 
 no wounds only two big bruises. Neither 
 bullet had pierced the " defensive protection." 
 
 The attempt to stretch the agreed distance and 
 the all-lead bullets were now also explained. At 
 twelve feet a steel-tipped bullet would have gone 
 through everything. But lead is not good for 
 penetrating books and the bullets may have 
 been backed by only light charges of powder. 
 Even at that, however, one of them had pene- 
 trated the outer paper armor and splattered 
 through the links of the ring-mail. Thorpe's 
 finger, probing into the torn uniform, felt a flat 
 packet. One look at the lead-ripped envelope 
 was enough. He held it up before the German 
 officer and the forward-edging surgeon. 
 
 " This, herr, as you see, is in the handwriting 
 of a lady. It is the property of a friend of 
 mine, and was stolen by Count von Pappheim. 
 Do I take it by your consent, or do I take his 
 overcoat, jacket and defensive protection for 
 public exhibition? " 
 
 " Himmel! " ejaculated the officer, and he 
 dropped on his knees so that his body hid Von 
 Pappheim's face. " In God's name, take the
 
 372 The Blond Beast 
 
 lady 's love notes take tlieni and begone ! ' 
 
 " You'll make this out an accident I " de- 
 manded Lee. " No charges of any kind to be 
 made against us? " 
 
 " Ja, ja, my word to it. Go! leave us alone 
 with our dead." 
 
 Passing the cabriolet, Lee jabbed his penknife 
 blade into one of the tires. 
 
 " A stick in time may save thine," he observed. 
 1 * There 's no trusting Hun treaties when they 
 use their scraps of paper to line their craws." 
 
 The racing car fairly burned up the road until 
 it whirled into Brussels. Thorpe dropped Lee 
 on the outskirts. A brief handgrip, a word of 
 thanks, a dry joke from the Virginian, and 
 Thorpe circled off through the suburbs. At the 
 Von Pappheim mansion a new orderly was on 
 guard. Thorpe dashed up into the portico. 
 
 1 1 Quick ! quick ! " he cried breathlessly in 
 German. " The count is hurt! A message to 
 the countess! " 
 
 He had only a minute or so to warm his 
 hands at the grate fire in the reception hall. 
 Elsa came hurrying down the stairway, a dress- 
 ing robe flung about her robe de nuit, and her 
 snowy ankles showing above the fur-topped 
 Juliets. Two thick braids of spun gold glinted 
 on her heaving bosom. 
 
 At sight of Thorpe her tear-swollen sleep- 
 blurred eyes stretched still wider open. He 
 authoritatively shook the packet of snapshots and 
 forgeries at the sour-faced housekeeper, who 
 was hastening in from the rear hall. 
 
 " Out with vou! " he commanded. " This is
 
 Pistols at Sunrise 373 
 
 direct from the count. A matter not for meni- 
 als. Go!" 
 
 " You you come from the herr count? " fal- 
 tered Elsa. 
 
 " Yes," said Thorpe, sparring for time while 
 his stony gaze watched the slowly retreating 
 housekeeper. " Look for yourself at these writ- 
 ings. I have them from him." 
 
 "Writings? Lucy's!. . .But the herr count? 
 They said he is is hurt! " 
 
 Thorpe saw the housekeeper disappear. He 
 shifted his gaze to Elsa's distraught face. 
 
 " Good news, my Elschen! " he whispered. 
 " These are the forgeries by which that devil 
 was seeking to force Lucy to give herself to 
 him. Look this frees her and me from the 
 charges of spying." 
 
 A toss sent snapshots, film, forgeries and 
 envelope all together into the midst of the 
 flaming grate. 
 
 " Better news still you are free, free from 
 him for all time, my dear sweet Elschen! I 
 have come to take you away with me. We shall 
 go to Kurt, and then ' ' 
 
 "Free?" gasped Elsa. "You mean you 
 cannot mean " 
 
 Thorpe's compassionate hazel eyes glinted and 
 hardened. 
 
 " The treacherous hound had on armor 
 armor hidden under his coat. But the third 
 bullet struck his head" 
 
 " Ach! ach! " shrieked the girl- wife. " Dead! 
 he is dead ! And you have killed him ! . . . Dead ! 
 my noble Wolf! my husband!. . .Ach! acht For
 
 374 The Blond Beast 
 
 you to stand and tell me tell me with your 
 own lips! Murderer! low foreigner that you 
 are ! ... To rob me of my husband ! my Wolf ! 
 my high-born Wolf! Achl ach! achl " 
 
 Servants came running from all directions. 
 Thorpe, astounded, bewildered, cut to the quick, 
 drew away from the screaming, hysterical bride. 
 Near the outer entrance the orderly sought to 
 bar his way. A fist blow on the point of the 
 jaw sent the clumsy boor reeling.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 FLIGHT 
 
 Back in his racing car, Thorpe drove towards 
 the center of the city until out of sight of the 
 Von Pappheim mansion, then turned abruptly 
 westward. Once clear of the suburbs, he put 
 on full speed. As there had been no fighting 
 directly west, between Brussels and the new 
 Front, the roads had not been pitted with shell 
 craters, and most of them were in fairly good 
 condition. He made the Scheldt, a few miles 
 east of Courtrai, in an hour. 
 
 A run southwest, up along the east side of the 
 river, avoiding the roads most crowded with Ger- 
 man supply transports, brought him opposite 
 Eoubaix by mid-forenoon. At Koubaix he was 
 held up by a suspicious German captain. But 
 his credentials as a worker with the Belief Com- 
 mission, his fluent German, and the free use of 
 Kurt's name, at last won him a pass through 
 to Lille. 
 
 Shortly after noon he reached the hotel that 
 Kurt had named for the meeting. When he told 
 that he was the gentleman expected by Captain 
 von Kissel he was at once shown upstairs. 
 Before the door to which he was ushered he 
 dismissed the hotel attendant, knocked, and 
 stepped in. 
 
 375
 
 At first glance he might not have recognized 
 Lucy, who was in the costume of a German Red 
 Cross deaconess. But Kurt was seated close 
 to her, clinging to her hand. His flushed face, 
 no less than his posture, showed the agitation 
 and ardor with which he had been pleading. 
 Lucy sprang up and darted to meet Thorpe, her 
 drooping lips suddenly curved in a smile of 
 joyful relief, her anxiety-clouded eyes beaming. 
 
 ' ' Lan ! They haven 't caught you yet ! ' ' 
 
 The relief and gladness in her lovely eyes and 
 the affectionate clasp of her hands gave Thorpe 
 an irresistible impulse. 
 
 " With Kurt's permission! " he said, and he 
 pressed what he intended for a brotherly kiss 
 full upon her smiling red lips. She jerked her 
 hands free to hide her flaming face. 
 
 " Oh, oh, Lan! How could you! " she sobbed. 
 
 Kurt sprang to clasp his arm protectingly 
 about her quivering shoulders. The look he fixed 
 upon Thorpe was hot with resentment. 
 
 " How dare you? " he demanded. " She is 
 my betrothed mine. And you pretending to 
 love Elsa! You will apologize! " 
 
 The swift subsidence of Thorpe's emotional 
 up-welling left him more than grave. That 
 impulsive, unpremeditated kiss had, as it were, 
 unlocked a sealed chamber in his heart. In a 
 flash of self-revelation he saw the truth. And 
 with this realization came darting before him 
 sparks of memory remembrances of words, 
 looks, incidents, all now vividly clear and focused 
 on a common center. . .But realization that comes 
 too late can give only bitter regret and sorrow.
 
 Flight 377 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Kurt. I know you'll 
 excuse me when you take into consideration that 
 Lucy and I are Americans and old friends 
 children together. . .Your German life is so dif- 
 ferent. . .But I know you'll take my word for it 
 that I have no thought of offending her or you 
 the only real friends I have." 
 
 With a generous self-reproach as intense as 
 had been his resentment, Kurt grasped the hands 
 of his friend. 
 
 "No more no more, Allan! I should be 
 the one to ask pardon! Only this fear for 
 you both it will drive me mad ! If Lucy would 
 marry me, you might be able to slip through 
 alone. As my wife, I could protect her even 
 against Von Pappheim. But no, she insists on 
 going with you to see for herself that you 
 escape." 
 
 Lucy looked up at Thorpe, her face now white, 
 but her eyes clear and unwavering. 
 
 " I am trying to make Kurt see why I cannot 
 marry him now," she said. " It would seem 
 as if I were doing it merely to save myself. I 
 will not be forced into it. But he has my promise 
 that it shall take place just as soon as he can 
 come to me, at my home if you and I escape, 
 Lan." 
 
 The shudder that followed the girl's last words 
 impelled Thorpe to a hasty attempt at reassur- 
 ance: " Buck up, Loo. The odds are with us 
 now. Though Pappheim wore a chest protector, 
 my pistol made a lucky jump got him in the 
 head. So now ' ' 
 
 " Worse than ever! " broke in Kurt. " Wire
 
 378 The Blond Beast 
 
 from Brussels to staff headquarters here, de- 
 scribing you and Lucy as spies and also charg- 
 ing you with " 
 
 " No proofs, " said Thorpe. " Lucy at least 
 is safe. I found all on Pappheim snapshots, 
 his forgeries, everything. They're gone now 
 burnt up. And with him dead " 
 
 " But he's not, Lan, he's not! " cried Lucy. 
 " Tell him, Kurt. " 
 
 " He himself sent the wire," said Kurt. 
 
 "Impossible! I saw the wound close to 
 just above the forehead. He never stirred after 
 he fell on his back." 
 
 " Stunned," suggested Kurt. " Your bullet 
 must have glanced on his skull. Anyway, the 
 telegram came with his name as sender. You're 
 charged with robbery and deadly assault upon 
 an officer. . .That was only half an hour ago. I 
 cut my staff work and rushed here to see if 
 you had come. No doubt orders have been sent 
 out already and posters are being printed. Of 
 course he is wiring elsewhere to all points on 
 this Front, from Holland around to here and on 
 down into France." 
 
 Thorpe thought quickly. If Lucy should be 
 taken in his company, there would be no hope 
 for her. She was pledged to marry Kurt later. 
 She must be saved at all cost. The only chance 
 seemed to lie in immediate marriage to Kurt. 
 She must be forced to consent. Thorpe could 
 think of only one way to break her determination. 
 
 " That devil! " he muttered. " Must be furi- 
 ous. If he gets me now!. . .Loo, why don't you 
 do as Kurt wishes f . . . With you along I won 't
 
 Plight 379 
 
 have half the chance Haven't I done enough 
 for you already? " 
 
 The eager delight that beamed from Kurt's 
 anxious eyes blurred into a bewilderment in 
 which loyal faith struggled against a rising jeal- 
 ousy. But Lucy's gaze never wavered. Before 
 the look in her clear eyes Thorpe flushed and 
 stared over her head. 
 
 " Don't you think you're smart, Lan Thorpe? " 
 she scoffed. " You always were a fizzle at make- 
 believe. . .Kurt will write a semi-official note, 
 recommending you as Herr A. Thorpe from Ber- 
 lin, a personal friend whose offer to volunteer 
 for Red Cross work was personally accepted by 
 the High Commander of the Third Army, and 
 who served through the Marne campaign. Mean- 
 time, you will go down the back stairs to the 
 shops in the side street. Try to get clothes, 
 hat, pipe and glasses like those of a German 
 professor. I have Bed Cross armlets for you." 
 
 " But, Loo, you must stay and marry Kurt. 
 If you're caught !... Promise you'll stay." 
 
 " You know I'd stay if I thought it would 
 give you a better chance," she said. " But it's 
 just the opposite. My dress is what will put 
 over the act. Do as I say, at once." 
 
 Thorpe met Kurt's look, shook his head help- 
 lessly, and obeyed. 
 
 He returned another man. By good chance 
 he had found the shop of an old French costumer 
 in the side street and had risked everything by 
 telling the man his need to escape. His Belief 
 Commission credentials had carried conviction. 
 Nothing could gratify the old Frenchman more
 
 380 The Blond Beast 
 
 than to help balk the Boehes. There was no 
 crudeness about his work. The clothes were 
 commonplace yet suggestive of German style, the 
 goggles were merely tinted. His master touch 
 came in the mustache, which presented an ab- 
 surdly ineffectual yet loyal effort to imitate 
 the tushes of Majestdt. 
 
 A blond wig and a pair of coarse, low-heeled 
 shoes had been sent for Lucy. She decided that 
 the wig made too unnatural a contrast with her 
 dark eyebrows and lashes. But she put on the 
 shoes, and with them a heavy German manner. 
 
 In exchange for Kurt's note and a verbal list 
 of German positions near Lille, Thorpe handed 
 over his Relief Commission credentials to be 
 destroyed. 
 
 " Time to start," he said. 
 
 " Save her for me! " murmured Kurt. 
 
 His lips quivered and his eyes became violet 
 as he held out his arms to Lucy. She passively 
 submitted to his farewell embrace and kisses 
 until Thorpe, who had turned to the door, uttered 
 an impatient call. Left alone in the room, Kurt 
 paced back and forth for a moment. The arrange- 
 ment was for him to go out through the main 
 entrance. Thorpe and Lucy went down the back 
 stairs and out through a covered court to the 
 side street. 
 
 " Hope you're good for a stiff hike, Gretchen," 
 he said. " My car would have been a dead 
 give-away. I left it around the corner from 
 the shop of our French friend. He agreed to 
 have it run off to another quarter of the city." 
 
 " Vorwdrts, Uerr Dorp." Lucy's attempt at
 
 Flight 381 
 
 a guttural accent was not an unqualified success. 
 
 Thorpe hesitated whether to start southwest 
 towards La Bassee or northwest for Armentieres. 
 He decided on the latter, as Kurt had thought 
 there were some Saxons in that direction. 
 
 In the outskirts they came to a guardhouse 
 before which a fresh army poster was being 
 pasted up. Thorpe and Lucy were caught in 
 the crowd of soldiers who came flocking to read 
 the poster. It described the fugitives and told 
 the crimes of which they were accused, offering 
 a reward for their capture and threatening dire 
 punishment to all civilians who should shelter 
 or aid them. 
 
 Thorpe edified the crowd with a violent denun- 
 ciation of all schweinhund spies and enemies 
 of the Fatherland, w r hile Lucy chimed in with 
 guttural " Ja! jas! ' The mock-loyal effusion 
 won them seats on an out-bound truck of muni- 
 tions. Thorpe was convincingly condescending 
 to the truck-driver and pumped out of him all 
 that the man knew about the troops ahead. 
 
 After the truck had turned to run squarely 
 towards the line of shell smoke, and the all too 
 familiar thunder of the guns began to roar close 
 ahead, Thorpe took friendly leave of the helpful 
 driver. He and Lucy trudged off northwards, 
 looking for a break in the battle front through 
 which they might slip after nightfall. 
 
 Trains of transport wagons and trucks were 
 coming and going from the front. Fresh troops 
 and artillery were rushing forward, shattered 
 regiments were withdrawing, wounded men were 
 limping to the rear. Everyone was too intent
 
 382 The Blond Beast 
 
 upon his own concerns to heed the couple that 
 passed by with the bearing of persons who have 
 a very definite destination in view. 
 
 If an officer looked at .them, Thorpe saluted 
 and respectfully inquired what regiment occu- 
 pied the next position to the north. Once a 
 morosely suspicious Bavarian stopped to growl 
 a harsh command for them to account for them- 
 selves. Thorpe flurriedly handed over Kurt's 
 note and launched into an extravagant laudation 
 of how the Imperial Prussian Guard had fought 
 at the battle of Charleroi. No one hates the 
 Prussians more than do the Bavarians. The 
 officer flung the note back at Thorpe and told 
 him to go to the devil with his Red Cross wench. 
 
 Toward sunset a drizzling rain set in. They 
 came to where there was a gap in the battle line 
 or it bowed away westward out of sight. The 
 last German soldiers and wagons had been 
 passed half a mile back. From a turn in the 
 road where a battery had fired several shells 
 at the British, Thorpe picked up an empty shell 
 basket as he helped Lucy over the ditch. They 
 cut across the fields towards a small farmhouse. 
 
 Though unharmed by gunfire, the place ap- 
 peared to be deserted. There were no fowls 
 or animals about, and no smoke rose from 
 the chimney. Passing the pig stye Thorpe 
 chanced to glance inside. The body of an elderly 
 French peasant lay in the muck, horribly muti- 
 lated. Thorpe hurried Lucy on to the house. 
 The doors were open and all the lower rooms 
 had been ransacked. Thorpe asked Lucy to 
 close the doors while he looked upstairs.
 
 Flight 383 
 
 What he saw filled him with horror. Quietly 
 going downstairs, he told Lucy that the house 
 was too defiled to be habitable. 
 
 But the rain had now set in more heavily. 
 They took refuge in a root-shed where the pU- 
 laging Germans had left a few scattered vege- 
 tables. After a supper of raw carrots, Thorpe 
 got together enough dry straw and sacking to 
 make Lucy a warm bed. He burrowed into a 
 straw stack near the shed. Despite the raw, 
 dank cold of the all-night rain, both were so 
 wearied that they slept until dawn. 
 
 While they were breakfasting on three or four 
 stray potatoes roasted in the fire that Thorpe 
 had built to warm their chilled, cramped limbs, 
 Lucy suddenly noticed that his mustache was 
 gone. Wetted in the rain the evening before, 
 it had rubbed off during the night. Thorpe 
 found it crumpled up in his straw-stack burrow. 
 He had lain upon it during the night. Even 
 Lucy's deft fingers were unable to get it into 
 shape again or to make it stick on his lip. 
 
 " Oh, dear! " she sighed. " It was such a 
 perfect disguise. It made everyone smile." 
 
 " Throw it away. It's hopeless," replied 
 Thorpe. " Maybe the sun will smile. The 
 clouds seem to be breaking." 
 
 He filled the shell basket with such of the 
 remaining vegetables as were eatable. An hour 
 later the rain had ceased. Watery sun-rays 
 began to straggle ' through the gray clouds. 
 Thorpe and Lucy plodded westward across the 
 muddy stubble fields, away from the ill-omened 
 house of death.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 
 
 A mile along a rutted country road brought 
 the fugitives within sound of firing. They came 
 up a wooded slope, and suddenly found them- 
 selves in the midst of a troop of uhlans, who 
 were riding out from a small village, in a 
 circling maneuver. Without his false mustache 
 Thorpe was no longer taken as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 The uhlan captain read Kurt's note, and 
 abruptly began to ask searching questions of 
 Lucy. She of course could neither understand 
 nor answer his guttural German talk. Thorpe 
 attempted a voluble explanation that " his wife " 
 was American, that they had been married at 
 New York in June, when he had brought her 
 to his home in Berlin. She had not yet had 
 time to learn German, but, being a good nurse, 
 had insisted upon joining him in hospital work. 
 
 The officer frowned dubiously, and ordered two 
 of his men to take the couple into the village 
 for investigation. 
 
 The British had recently been driven back 
 out of the village by German engineer troops, 
 the work of whose saw-edged bayonets was all 
 too evident on the corpses of village folk and 
 
 384
 
 Valley of the Shadow 385 
 
 British soldiers scattered along the muddy gut- 
 ters. Twenty or thirty more of the unfortunate 
 inhabitants women, old men and children 
 stood herded together at the west end of the 
 village, where the Germans were preparing to 
 advance against their entrenched enemy. 
 
 When the two uhlans came up with the mud- 
 died, bedraggled Thorpe and Lucy, the major 
 in command cut short Thorpe's plausible explan- 
 ations with harsh severity. 
 
 " That placard," he demanded. 
 
 A slim-waisted lieutenant, who had been ogling 
 Lucy, handed over a copy of the poster that the 
 fugitives had seen at the guardhouse in Lille. 
 As the major compared the descriptions with 
 the features of the prisoners his stern face 
 became terrible. 
 
 " There is no doubt," he stated. " They are 
 the spies. A little more, and they would have 
 slipped through our lines to the enemy." 
 
 At once a number of ferociously eager soldiers 
 pressed around, with their saw-edged bayonets 
 ready for action. Thorpe drew Lucy aside 
 towards the officers and waved at them Kurt's 
 note. 
 
 "It is a mistake. We are not spies," he 
 denied with desperate earnestness. " Read this, 
 Herr Major from Captain von Kissel. We 
 are not spies, but Americans who helped save 
 your wounded in the Marne campaign." 
 
 The major read Kurt's note and flung it 
 down into the mud. 
 
 " A palpable forgery," he denounced. " There 
 are no Prussian Guards at Lille. Be silent,
 
 386 The Blond Beast 
 
 schweinhund! You have confessed to "being 
 Americans. That is enough, with the girl in 
 disguise." 
 
 He turned to the lieutenant who had ogled 
 Lucy. 
 
 " To bother longer with such vermin, when 
 we are about to attack, is foolishness. A squad 
 and the nearest wall." 
 
 The lieutenant smiled gloatingly. " The girl 
 is pretty, Major. Give me permission first to 
 enjoy her." 
 
 Lucy did not understand the words, but the 
 look that the young officer fixed upon her was 
 unmistakable. She pressed close to Thorpe. 
 
 " Lan, dear Lan," she whispered, " as you 
 love me, kill me quick ! ' ' 
 
 " Yes," he assured her, his jaw tightening. 
 
 He stood ready, his hands on her quivering 
 shoulders. He knew he could save her. A 
 sudden clutch of her dainty head, a twist of her 
 slender neck and she would be beyond reach 
 of the blond beast. He waited only for the 
 answer to the lieutenant's request. 
 
 The major had turned to look off over the 
 woods in the direction taken by the uhlans. A 
 rocket flared red against the gray sky. 
 
 " Donnerwetter! " he cursed. " Already the 
 signal, and we have yet to start. Put the spies 
 in the herd with the other schweine. They shall 
 serve us and be killed by their verdammt friends. 
 Vorwdrts! " 
 
 Thorpe swung Lucy around and hurried her 
 into the midst of the cowering French peasants. 
 Swiftly as he moved, he received a thrust in
 
 Valley of the Shadow 387 
 
 the thigh from one of the prodding saw-edged 
 bayonets. A jerk of his forearm barely suc- 
 ceeded in knocking up another bayonet that 
 lunged at Lucy's face. Fortunately she did not 
 understand the vile jeers of the soldiers. 
 
 Once among their fellow victims, Thorpe 
 pushed forward into the lead. Behind him burst 
 out screams of pain and terror as the soldiers 
 prodded with their bayonets or struck with their 
 rifle butts those of the peasants who did not 
 start off quickly enough. Forgetful of her own 
 terror, Lucy wrenched about in Thorpe's grasp 
 to cry out in denunciation of the brutality. 
 Thorpe clapped his hand over her mouth and 
 dragged her on with him. In his single back- 
 ward glance he had seen a very old man fall 
 under the blow of a rifle butt and a young baby 
 tossed up to be caught on three or four bayonet 
 points. 
 
 The huddled drove of victims hurried out of 
 the village and westward down the road before 
 their cruel goaders. The pitiful maskers of 
 the advance soon came to clumps of bullet-clipped 
 coppices, from which German pickets were firing 
 towards their enemy. A turn of the road brought 
 the party into view of the British trenches, only 
 a hundred and fifty yards away. 
 
 Thorpe heard the ping and zipp of rifle bul- 
 lets. He forced Lucy around behind him. A 
 young woman next to them gave a little gurgling 
 gasp and pitched face down in the muddy road. 
 Suddenly the shots ceased. The British evidently 
 could see only the civilians at the head of the 
 advancing party. The Germans ceased to tor-
 
 388 The Blond Beast 
 
 ture their victims, but pressed up close behind 
 them, stooping low to hide behind the living 
 screen and dragging along in their van a pair 
 of machine-guns. The peasants continued to 
 surge forward, impelled by the ferocious threats 
 of the soldiers. 
 
 Lucy and Thorpe, still among the foremost 
 of the terror-stricken flock, saw the distance to 
 the British trenches rapidly narrow. They came 
 within a hundred yards and still the British 
 did not perceive how they were being duped. 
 Thorpe caught sight of a machine-gun at the log 
 barrier that had been thrown across the road. 
 
 Into his super-tense mind flashed a frightfully 
 clear perception of the situation. The British 
 might refrain from firing upon the civilians, but 
 the Germans were only waiting to get as near 
 as possible to the trenches. The moment they 
 were discovered they would open fire with their 
 machine-guns through the thick of their living 
 ambush screen. Meantime, every foot of advance 
 was giving them so much the more advantage 
 for their surprise charge. ..The victims were 
 already doomed. Then why should they not die 
 in time to save their friends? 
 
 Thorpe drew in a deep breath, and shouted 
 at the top of his lungs: " Germans! Germans! 
 Firel " 
 
 Over his shoulder he cried to the peasants: 
 " A las! a bas! " 
 
 He flung himself down with Lucy, shielding 
 her with his body as best he could. Some of 
 the peasants dropped to the ground behind them. 
 Most of the others were struck down by the first
 
 Valley of the Shadow 389 
 
 volley of the enraged Germans. The foremost 
 soldiers yelled with insensate rage and sprang 
 forward to bayonet the wounded. At the same 
 instant a storm of British machine-gun and rifle 
 fire struck the head of the German column. The 
 shooting was concentrated and deadly accurate. 
 Every man at the head of the attackers was 
 hit, and the densly massed ranks behind were 
 drilled through and through before the survivors 
 could deploy and charge. 
 
 Thorpe rolled over to place himself between 
 the British fire and Lucy. A slight dip of the 
 machine-gun barrel would have riddled him with 
 its hail of bullets. All the gunners of the Ger- 
 man maxims must have been struck by the first 
 burst of shots. Several moments passed before 
 two or three wounded men crawled up behind 
 the shield of the rearmost gun and put it into 
 action. But now their own infantry were charg- 
 ing forward between them and the trenches. 
 Their maxim could fire only through the gaps. 
 
 By twisting his head around, Thorpe could see 
 the furious charge of the Germans. Their rush 
 had already carried them half way to the 
 trenches. But their line was ragged and broken. 
 All along it men were pitching down, dead or 
 wounded. 
 
 Above the crackling, rattling roar of machine- 
 gun and rifle fire shrilled a strange blare of 
 piping. Up out of the shallow trenches leaped 
 kilted figures, that instantly formed in a wide- 
 spaced line and bounded forward, with a battle- 
 shout that has re-echoed down the ages from 
 clashing clans in the glens of the Scottish
 
 390 The Blond Beast 
 
 Highlands. On on came the kilted wave. 
 
 The foremost Germans went down like nine- 
 pins before the shock of the counter assailants. 
 Others, too close to flee, dropped their rifles and 
 flung- up their hands, with loud shrieks of 
 " Kamerad! Kamerad! " The rest doubled 
 about and came flying to rearward, hotly pursued 
 by the fierce-shouting, rawboned " ladies of hell." 
 
 The German machine gunners drove a mur- 
 derous fire through the scattered flight of their 
 own comrades, in a desperate attempt to stop 
 the charge of the Scots. They might as well 
 have tossed handfuls of gravel. Several High- 
 landers went down. But a score or more rushed 
 at the machine-guns from three directions. 
 
 Close before Thorpe a whooping young subal- 
 tern, two jumps ahead of his men, staggered, 
 spun half around, and fell. He struggled up 
 on his elbow, to urge his men forward. There 
 was no need. As Thorpe ran to aid him, the 
 skirted fighters closed in on the machine gunners. 
 The rattle-clatter of the maxim abruptly ceased. 
 
 "On! on! " shouted the wounded lieutenant. 
 " Chevy 'em! Beat the coppices! " 
 
 "Uhlans your flank!" warned Thorpe. 
 " Uhlans cavalry! Your left flank or rear! " 
 
 The boyish subaltern stared hard at him, 
 glanced to the left, and jerked out his whistle. 
 Its shrill note stopped the wild Highlanders at 
 the very height of their furious charge. The 
 few who might have hesitated about giving over 
 the pursuit, swerved and sprinted to the rally- 
 ing point at sight of the on-coming uhlans. 
 
 Thorpe was assisting the wounded officer to
 
 Valley of the Shadow 391 
 
 his feet. The young aristocrat was as cool 
 as ice. 
 
 " Form square," he commanded. " Man the 
 maxims. Fire." 
 
 The uhlans had burst out through a wood not 
 over three hundred yards away. There was no 
 time for the Highlanders to form a square. 
 But the nearest ones massed along the roadside 
 in triple ranks, from beyond the machine-guns 
 to a point on the left of the officer. They began 
 to shoot, firing at will but with the cool aim of 
 veterans. Manned by Scotch gunners, both Ger- 
 man maxims burst into a clattering roar. The 
 Highlanders who had been farthest out on the 
 left flank veered clear of the line of fire as they 
 rushed to the ends of the defensive formation. 
 Those from the right wing came panting, to 
 dash across the road over the bodies of the dead 
 and wounded peasants. 
 
 The number of empty saddles in the van of 
 the charging uhlans rapidly increased. But to 
 stop the massed rush of a body of cavalry in 
 full gallop is no easy matter. The uhlans had 
 already covered half the distance heads down, 
 lances leveled, horses skimming over the ground 
 at racing speed. Thorpe's heart leaped into his 
 throat. The sheer velocity and mass of so much 
 on-hurtling horse-flesh must surely smash through 
 and over the footmen. Lucy would be trampled 
 under those pounding hoofs. 
 
 He released his supporting arm from the 
 subaltern and bent sideways to dart back to 
 where he had left Lucy lying... She was not 
 there. His anxious glance swept the road in
 
 392 The Blond Beast 
 
 all directions. When it came around to the 
 opposite side, it was fixed and riveted upon a 
 black and white figure crouched under the far 
 elbow of the young officer. 
 
 Unheeded by either Thorpe or the wounded 
 man, in the tense excitement of the uhlan charge, 
 Lucy had helped herself to the subaltern's first- 
 aid kit and was calmly bandaging the wound 
 above his bare knee. Utterly unconscious of 
 her presence, he was balancing himself on his 
 sound leg with the pressure of his left hand 
 on her downbent head. 
 
 Thorpe's half assured glance flicked forward 
 over the down-bent heads of the Highlanders. 
 Through the haze of the blazing Scotch rifles 
 the uhlans loomed alarmingly near. Yet in the 
 brief moments since Thorpe's last look a great 
 change had taken place among the furious 
 chargers. The machine gunners had lowered 
 their aim. Horses, struck in the head or chest 
 by the hail of bullets, were crashing down with 
 their riders. Those behind stumbled and plunged 
 headlong over the bodies, or, leaping clear, were 
 struck down in turn by the terrible rifle fire, 
 There was no shock. At thirty yards the swirl 
 of surviving horses and riders burst apart 
 and fled into the thickets. 
 
 " After them, lads! After them!" shouted 
 the subaltern. " Beat the coppices! On to the 
 village ! ' ' 
 
 He made an impetuous leap to put himself 
 in the lead of his men. His wounded leg doubled 
 under him. He came down with stunning vio- 
 lence. The hot-blooded men were already charg-
 
 Valley of the Shadow 
 
 ing after the enemy. Thorpe sprang to lift the 
 officer to a sitting position. Lucy hastened to 
 complete her bandaging. The boy stared at her 
 and raised a bruised hand to his bare head. 
 
 11 I er beg your pardon, miss," he daz- 
 edly murmured. " You do not appear at all 
 German, you know." 
 
 " Hardly," said Lucy. "I'm straight Yan- 
 kee. So is Mr. Thorpe. We were working for 
 the Belgian Belief. The Germans accused us 
 of being spies." 
 
 * ' Ah really now ! The beggars are getting 
 a bit too thick. What? Put you in front with 
 these unlucky peasants. They don't play the 
 game. ' ' 
 
 " It was Mr. Thorpe who called out to warn 
 your soldiers," remarked Lucy as she pinned 
 the bandage. 
 
 ' ' Indeed ! Jolly good of you, Thorpe. Per- 
 mit me I'm Malcolm Stuart, second son of 
 Lord Scarpe of Dunness, you know. If I may 
 have the pleasure of meeting your country- 
 woman. . . " 
 
 Such a clinging to convention in the midst of 
 death and suffering struck Thorpe as grotesque. 
 He had to raise his voice to be heard above 
 the crackling of rifle shots in the coppices and 
 the groans of the wounded peasants. Lieutenant 
 the Honorable Malcolm Stuart flushed and 
 beamed over the introduction. 
 
 "Ah Miss Carew charmed to meet you. 
 Most kind of you to tie up my scratch. But 
 these poor wights must do what we can for 
 them. Here come what remain of our B. A.
 
 394 The Blond Beast 
 
 M. C. They will help you with the civilians. 
 I can make out to hobble on ahead, with one 
 of those long Hun rifles for crutch. Pardon 
 me for hastening off. I'm C. 0., you know. 
 Can't leave my lads. They'd be ganging on to 
 Berlin. What?... Ah, I say, most kind of you, 
 old chap. This will be topping." 
 
 With white, pain-racked face, but dauntless 
 eye, the young aristocrat took the German rifle 
 from which Thorpe had detached the barbarous 
 saw-edged bayonet, and staggered away up the 
 corpse-littered road towards the village.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 THE BATTLE OF BATTLES 
 
 All the remainder of the day Thorpe and Lucy 
 labored in company with the one Scotch surgeon 
 and his scant handful of trained ambulance 
 assistants in caring for the wounded. The 
 bayonet stab in Thorpe's thigh, though painful, 
 was not disabling. 
 
 So far as the Americans could see, their fellow- 
 workers made absolutely no distinction in their 
 treatment of Highlanders and Germans. Only 
 the peasant children received special attention. 
 Those of the women and older children who had 
 escaped injury gave all the aid they could to 
 the Red Cross workers. A small villa, half a 
 mile to the west, was turned into a hospital. 
 
 During the afternoon an English regiment of 
 Territorials came to relieve the Highlanders, who 
 were being attacked in the village by a full regi- 
 ment of German reinforcements. Much to the 
 discontent of the Scots, they were ordered to the 
 rear for re-formation. 
 
 When commanded to report to hospital, and 
 not a moment before, Lieutenant the Honorable 
 Malcolm Stuart collapsed. He plaintively voiced 
 his grievances to Lucy as she re-dressed his 
 wound 
 
 395
 
 396 The Blond Beast 
 
 < ; 
 
 Eotten luck, Miss Carew. All those bally 
 Territorials nosing in. Why couldn't they have 
 dug up their own Huns? Not very sporting of 
 them to push in on our particular game. What? 
 . . . And to order me off the firing line mere 
 scratch like this. Game leg for hurdling, I dare 
 say, but jolly good enough for a king while hold- 
 ing a position where one has only to limp 
 around." 
 
 In the side room Thorpe was acting as assist- 
 ant to the busily operating surgeon. He spoke 
 of the subaltern's gallantry. The dour Scotch- 
 man squeezed out a half smile. 
 
 " A bonny lad, is he not? % Wi' us a fortnight, 
 no more. His brother, the heir, at home dying. 
 Shrapnel wound at Soissons Led his company 
 at Mons. Alas, 'twas a dolorous fight thot. We 
 started in wi' a regiment of eleven hun'red braw 
 lads. A scant three hun'red crossed the Marne. 
 Ever facing us two, three, ofttimes five Germans 
 to our one, wi' more seeking to come 'round by 
 the flank. A bitter drubbing they gie us." 
 
 " Had you mustered one man against two, 
 you'd never have had need to give back an 
 inch," said Thorpe. 
 
 "I'm no disagreeing to thot, sir. We came 
 back from across the Marne, and we ha' come 
 back here. Tester noon the Huns fell upon us 
 in force routed us out of the village. By the 
 time they drove us through the first bosks, yon 
 lad was our sole commissioned officer left. He 
 led counter-charges till the Huns quit cold. Then 
 he laid out trenches, and we dug in. Fairly has 
 he won his Victoria Cross, and him not a day
 
 The Battle of Battles 397 
 
 turned eighteen. God be thankit, the bullet in 
 his leg missed both tendon and thigh bone! " 
 
 Within two days the clean flesh of the boy's 
 wound, frequently sterilized by Lucy, was well 
 started on its healing. An order came, shifting 
 the rested and re-officered Highlanders north to 
 the neighborhood of Ypres. Lieutenant the Hon- 
 orable Malcolm Stuart insisted upon following 
 them. He rode in the ambulance with Lucy, 
 Thorpe and the surgeon. 
 
 The new C. 0. had ordered Lucy to the rear. 
 Regulations absolutely forbade the presence of 
 women at the Front in any capacity. Lucy had 
 bowed submissively and smiled and requested 
 permission to ride to the railway. At Armen- 
 tieres she and Thorpe took leave of their regret- 
 ful friends, the surgeon and young Stuart, each 
 of whom gave them letters highly praising their 
 services. 
 
 They rode by rail to Calais as helpers on a 
 train of wounded. During the short trip Lucy 
 found time for a word apart with Thorpe. 
 
 " You think I'm going home, don't you? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Why, of course, Loo. No sane girl would 
 stay a day longer than she could help within a 
 thousand miles of this war-hell." 
 
 Lucy looked at him with her cool steady gaze. 
 
 " How about you? " 
 
 " Well, that's different. I'm a man, you see. 
 Good Lord, Loo, can't you understand? Of 
 course I'm going to see you safe aboard ship 
 for God's country. Then I've got to come back 
 and help. Our country is a neutral we are
 
 398 The Blond Beast 
 
 neutrals. But the Red Cross I've a right to 
 serve as stretcher-bearer or ambulance man." 
 
 " Not a particle more than I have," asserted 
 Lucy. 
 
 Thorpe sought to humor her. " Of course 
 of course. But remember what the C. 0. said 
 about regulations against women." 
 
 " Yes. I heard. What the regulations mean 
 is ineffectual females. I can run a car as well 
 as you, and I'm better on first-aid. Well cable 
 for funds from Calais." 
 
 " But, Loo, you can't mean " 
 
 11 Don't be silly, Lan. After what I have 
 seen, you know it is as impossible for me to 
 leave as for you, so long as brave men are suf- 
 fering and dying to save the world from those 
 cruel beasts." 
 
 Thorpe winced. " Yes yes. . .Yet Kurt? " 
 
 The girl's flashing eyes clouded and dulled. 
 
 " You know I have given him my promise. If 
 he comes to me with his own hands still clean, 
 and renounces those who are responsible for that 
 frightfulness if he becomes a true American 
 citizen. . .But I would kill myself sooner than 
 be the wife of one who justifies the master 
 murderers." 
 
 " Poor Kurt," muttered Thorpe. " I believe 
 he was beginning to see the truth. We must not 
 forget he has been reared from babyhood to 
 worship the Kaiser." 
 
 Lucy shuddered. 
 
 "I have never forgotten the face of that 
 that Attila as he rode past along Unter den 
 Linden... And then Von Pappheim! Like mas-
 
 The Battle of Battles 399 
 
 ter, like man ! . . . Yet you could think I 'd go home, 
 when the wonderful French, the crushed Belgians, 
 and our own blood cousins, the British, are bat- 
 tling so desperately to wall up and force back 
 this terrible wave of medieval barbarism! " 
 
 Thorpe no longer even wished to remonstrate. 
 
 " We'll cable from Calais for funds," he 
 repeated her decision with grave approval. 
 
 Less than a week later they were on the Ypres 
 front with an ambulance, three American stu- 
 dents from Oxford, a young American doctor, 
 and two trained nurses from London. All the 
 equipment and the maintenance was at Lucy's 
 own expense. 
 
 Neither permission nor aid was asked of the 
 British military authorities. The little ambu- 
 lance unit simply appeared at the front and set 
 to work. The Americans women as well as 
 men were received without question, as a mat- 
 ter of course, even gratefully, in so far as 
 surgeons and helpers, toiling night and day until 
 they dropped, were capable of realizing grati- 
 tude. But the wounded Tommies, torn and 
 mangled by bullets and shell fire and bayonets, 
 blessed the Yankees for carrying them off the 
 battle field, and blessed them twice for their 
 prodigal gifts of good cigarettes. 
 
 The unwounded soldiers and their anxious 
 commanders had no thought for anything else 
 than the deadly need to cling fast against the 
 tremendous blows that sought to hurl them back 
 across the few remaining miles to the French 
 coast. The whole Ypres front was a raw wound 
 of humanity in a volcano of German shell fire
 
 400 The Blond Beast 
 
 a hell-pit lined with heroes who, with few bat- 
 teries and scant ammunition, indomitably held on 
 and on against the bombardment of the heavy 
 German howitzers and against the gray flood of 
 Teutons, who often outnumbered them five to 
 one. 
 
 For twenty terrific days of blood and steel and 
 fire, the little British army faced the impact of 
 the gigantic German war-machine. Against the 
 enormous numbers of light and heavy artillery, 
 against the overwhelming masses of enemy infan- 
 try, the British had little else to oppose than 
 rifle fire, bayonets, flesh, and the bulldog game- 
 ness of their race. The mixed Anglo-Saxon-Celts, 
 bred to peace and democracy, stood up to the 
 vastly greater numbers of the much-vaunted, 
 better-armed, war-trained Teutonic Supermen 
 stopped their mighty rush, fought them to a 
 stand, out-gamed them, hurled them back until, 
 as at the Aisne, they took refuge in their trenches. 
 
 Such was the first battle of Ypres, one of the 
 most terrible, one of the most desperate, of all 
 battles in history. Of the hundred and twenty 
 thousand British troops engaged, fifty thousand 
 fell. But the loss was not all on one side. As 
 during the great rush in France, solid masses 
 of the half million attackers were flung forward 
 openly, to be slaughtered by rifle and machine- 
 gun fire. In the schemes of the cold-blooded 
 Teutonic battle-thinkers, any expenditure of their 
 abundant cannon-fodder was a cheap price to 
 pay, if only they could smash through the British 
 line and sweep on to the Channel coast from 
 Dunkirk and Calais down to Dieppe.
 
 The Battle of Battles 401 
 
 Against these immense odds, the "contemptible 
 little British army" held fast held on to the 
 death, like the heroic remnant of the shattered 
 Belgian forces, until Foch, the victor of Fere 
 Champenoise, rushed up his no less gallant French 
 poilus to complete the repulse of the Huns. 
 
 Throughout that frightful battle-hurricane 
 Lucy carried on her full share of the party's 
 self-chosen task. Like each and all of them, she 
 ate when she could and worked night and day 
 until forced to sleep by exhaustion. She wore a 
 khaki hunting suit, soldier's overcoat, and leather 
 or rubber boots according to the ground and 
 weather. For the most part, she drove the ambu- 
 lance no easy undertaking when on shell-pitted 
 ground under German bombardment, or, with- 
 out lights, skidding down a miry, cramped, 
 shelled road on a black night, past advancing 
 troops, artillery, and munition lorries. 
 
 To Thorpe and his student helpers it was a 
 matter of endless wonderment, a new revelation 
 of womanhood, to see her drive up to the lines 
 and jump from her seat to help load the wounded 
 they brought to the ambulance on their stretchers. 
 Her concern was always for the injured men. 
 One of the students who never stickled over the 
 most dangerous work, kept cotton in his ears 
 and trembled at every close hit of a " Jack 
 Johnson." Like him, the other students and 
 Thorpe ducked automatically whenever a shell 
 screeched overhead with its horrid tearing 
 smashing siren crescendo. 
 
 Lucy never ducked. She would calmly smooth 
 the pillow under the head of a ghastly wounded
 
 402 The Blond Beast 
 
 Tommy and tuck in the blanket with precise care- 
 fulness while a big shell burst near enough to 
 fling mud over the ambulance. She paid no more 
 heed to the cottony puffs of shrapnel shells, out 
 of which descended death showers of metallic 
 hail. Once, driving back from the trenches to 
 the dressing station of her surgeon, an exploding 
 shell, only a few yards ahead, splashed a three- 
 inch gun and its double team of horses. She 
 drove the ambulance over the splinter-strewn, 
 reddened spot without a tremor. 
 
 Thorpe's wonderment increased rather than 
 lessened when he found that the mature women 
 nurses appeared no less unconscious of any per- 
 sonal danger. As the battle line shifted forward 
 and back with the fluctuations of attack and 
 counter-attack, the dressing station often came 
 within range of the German shells. On one 
 occasion, small shells smashed through the roof 
 of the farmhouse in which the station was located. 
 One nurse went on helping the doctor dress the 
 wounds of a fresh batch of casualties, while the 
 other climbed upon the tottery roof and stretched 
 tarpaulins over the shell holes to shut out a 
 threatened downpour of rain. 
 
 Whether owing to sheer courage or to self- 
 forgetfulness in their devotion to the injured, 
 these members of the supposedly timid weaker 
 sex toiled like the men for hour after hour and 
 day after day, amidst surroundings and in the 
 face of conditions that might well have appalled 
 a Joan of Arc big shells and small, the bitter 
 fumes of burnt powder, the sight of stricken 
 men, their delirious groans and shrieks, their
 
 The Battle of Battles 403 
 
 patient suffering when conscious, their dying, 
 the sickening sweetish odor of gangrene, the 
 reek of disinfectants, the dirt and mud, the cold 
 and wet, the lack of conveniences. 
 
 Both nurses were mature women and trained 
 by severe discipline. But to explain how a deli- 
 cately nurtured girl like Lucy could endure what 
 she did, and continue to endure it, after all her 
 nerve-shattering experiences in France and in 
 the flight from Brussels Thorpe gave up the 
 mystery as beyond him. No less a mystery was 
 how she always kept her hair well brushed and 
 contrived to appear neat even when splashed 
 with mud or smeared with oil from tinkering 
 the ambulance motor. 
 
 At first Thorpe went about haunted with the 
 cold dread that, sooner or later, her dainty grace- 
 ful body would be mashed and torn, or her beau- 
 tiful face mangled into a hideous featureless 
 mask. But in time her cheerful serenity so 
 reacted upon him that he ceased to fear over 
 her danger of death and even over her danger 
 of mutilation. 
 
 There were rare happy occasions when the 
 station happened to be cleared of cases by the 
 British evacuating ambulances, and perhaps some 
 one found time and energy to cook a hot meal. 
 Stale old American jokes would be cracked; 
 one of the students would spout Keats or Tenny- 
 son; another would pump a wheezy accordian 
 found in the attic, while all joined in the jolly 
 old college songs. Once Lucy and Thorpe fell to 
 talking of that far-away almost unbelievable land 
 of " Home," where people they once had known
 
 404 The Blond Beast 
 
 still danced and went to theatres and receptions 
 and wondered when the bothersome squabble in 
 Europe would stop interfering with tourist trips 
 to the interesting historical spots " abroad." 
 
 " Dr. Blair tells me the home papers still 
 poo-poo all accounts of the Hun frightfulness 
 as hysterical exaggerations, and our capitalists 
 rejoice that America is capturing the world mar- 
 kets of England and Germany," said Lucy. 
 " Will they never understand? " 
 
 Thorpe shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 "They do not realize' that the British fleet 
 alone stands between us and a fate more terrible 
 than Belgium's. They do not realize that the 
 Prussian war-lords look upon America as wolves 
 eye a fat sheep in a pen. Our people would not 
 give up their arms. They would seek to defend 
 their homes and they would be slaughtered by 
 the tens of thousands as franc-tireurs. Even the 
 British, close as they are, did not really under- 
 stand until the Zeppelins began dropping bombs 
 on defenseless women and children." 
 
 Lucy shuddered. 
 
 "Bombs and torpedoes! Word has just 
 come that a submarine has torpedoed without 
 warning one of the French ships that was taking 
 refugees across the Channel. Those Hun leaders 
 are cold-blooded monsters. I remember what 
 the Crown Prince said. ' First France, then 
 Russia, then England.' Now I know we shall be 
 next if the British front breaks." 
 
 "It will not break it cannot!" assured 
 Thorpe. 
 
 He had seen the thin khaki lines hold, time
 
 The Battle of Battles 405 
 
 after time, against stupendous odds . . . But the 
 Teutonic war-machine was yet to exert the full 
 force of its might the might that had been 
 accumulating for forty years. 
 
 A division of the Prussian Guard was secretly 
 brought up from the Arras front. On November 
 the tenth these choicest of all German troops 
 were flung into the death-tempest to stiffen the 
 many corps previously massed for the supreme 
 assault. 
 
 That sector of the front before the American 
 dressing station was the one struck by the Guard. 
 But the great billow of infantry was preceded 
 by a blast of shell fire before which all the ter- 
 rific previous bombardments were insignificant. 
 Out close behind the rear British trench, a shell 
 struck near two of the students who were bear- 
 ing a casualty to the ambulance. One was killed, 
 along with the wounded Tommy. The other was 
 badly wounded. 
 
 While Thorpe and the third student applied 
 first-aid inside the ambulance, Lucy coolly drove 
 to the rear through the mad chaos of bursting 
 shrapnel and choking smoke and the teeth- 
 rattling, soul-shaking detonations of the siege- 
 gun shells. Under a titanic up-flare of mud and 
 flame and black fumes, before the ambulance 
 would appear a yawning crater, a dozen yards 
 across. 
 
 Twice the ambulance all but toppled over; once 
 a gust of shrapnel ripped off the rear corner 
 of the top; once the machine had to be dug out 
 of a small crater. Half an hour was spent in 
 the zone of heaviest fire before the party regained
 
 406 The Blond Beast 
 
 the vicinity of the dressing station. The ambu- 
 lance came to an abrupt stop. Thorpe sprang 
 out to help re-start it. The ground around was 
 level, and the motor was still running. Lucy 
 pointed ahead. The surroundings were unmis- 
 takable. But where the house had stood, there 
 was now only a shell crater 
 
 Lucy drove on to the nearest field hospital. 
 It was being evacuated. The Prussian Guard 
 had stormed and taken the first trenches and 
 were forcing the British back by the sheer weight 
 of their mass charges. The Americans were 
 ordered to help in the evacuation. They did not 
 get back to the fighting lines until late in the 
 day. 
 
 At mid-afternoon the mauled and shattered 
 British, badly beaten and unaware of the fact 
 flung themselves against the victory-flushed 
 Germans as Foch's army had turned on the 
 over-confident victors of Fere Champenoise. 
 Only here the Teuton odds were far greater, and 
 they were fully backed by their field and heavy 
 artillery. To rout them was impossible. 
 
 Yet the scant remnants of Britain's small pro- 
 fessional army, her half-drilled Territorials and 
 raw volunteers, again jolted the invincible war- 
 machine of the Metzschean Supermen to a stop. 
 Not content with this miracle, they pried back 
 the juggernaut, yard after yard, across all the 
 fresh ground it had rolled over back across 
 all the captured British trenches back beyond 
 its own front trenches. 
 
 Close behind the reapers in the harvest field 
 of Death followed the gleaners, gathering in the
 
 The Battle of Battles 407 
 
 down-cut cannon-fodder while the hail of steel 
 and fire still blasted man and beast and earth 
 itself. 
 
 When Thorpe came upon a wounded Prussian 
 whose helmet bore the number of Kurt's regi- 
 ment, a sharp query in German won the informa- 
 tion that Captain von Kissel had led his company 
 into the battle. Whether he had been wounded 
 or killed the Guard could not say. There had 
 been no time to look at officers when the " ladies 
 of hell " began to counter-charge. 
 
 Thorpe sent back Lucy and the student with 
 the loaded ambulance. He himself began to run 
 about through the powder-smoke haze, searching 
 the shell pits and trenches.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 THE GIVERS 
 
 Past the scattering of rearward-bound wounded 
 Highlanders, Thorpe came to the in-caved flat- 
 tened British front trench. The battle was 
 sweeping forward towards the German trenches. 
 From a big shell crater just beyond him Thorpe 
 saw a wounded Scotchman crawl out and stagger 
 away towards the fighting. He ran to look into 
 the crater. 
 
 The first he saw was a major of the Prussian 
 Guard, stealthily creeping up to peer after the 
 Highlander. The alertness of his movements 
 showed that he was unwounded. Assured that 
 the Highlander was leaving, the officer turned to 
 glance over the pit rim to side and rear. At 
 sight of the newcomer he cursed and threw up 
 his hands. Thorpe found himself staring into 
 the hate-distorted face of Von Pappheim. 
 
 Two or three more steps brought him to the 
 near edge of the crater. Down the slopes and 
 in the bottom lay several dead Highlanders and 
 nearly twice as many Prussians. A Scotch officer, 
 with bandages about his head, was dressing the 
 body wound of a Guard officer. At Von Papp- 
 heim J s curse he had glanced up and around. On 
 his shoulder was the insignia of a captain, on 
 
 408
 
 The Givers 409 
 
 his breast a Victoria Cross. A quick smile of 
 recognition lightened his grimy blood-streaked 
 boyish face. 
 
 " Hi, Thorpe. Lend a hand, will you? Bad 
 case here. About pegged myself." 
 
 " Stuart! " exclaimed Thorpe. 
 
 He hastened down into the crater, his gaze 
 fixed watchfully upon Von Pappheim. The Prus- 
 sian thrust his hands higher, as if afraid that 
 Thorpe would jerk out a pistol and shoot. 
 Thorpe's only weapon was his first-aid kit, but 
 evidently Von Pappheim took for granted that 
 he was armed. Thorpe saw that his enemy's 
 scabbard and holster were empty. Both pistol 
 and sword lay a little way down the slope below 
 Von Pappheim. 
 
 Almost at Thorpe's feet a voice wailed with 
 the plaintive intonation of a frightened little 
 child: " Mutter! Hebe mutter! " 
 
 Thorpe looked down into the vacant dazed blue 
 eyes of the man who had been his heart's friend. 
 
 " Kurt! " he cried. 
 
 He dropped down beside young Stuart, to clasp 
 one of the groping hands and gaze close into 
 the staring eyes. 
 
 " I'm here, Kurt Don't you know me? It's 
 Allan." 
 
 No recognition glowed in the blue eyes. The 
 pain-twisted lips moved only to repeat that 
 childlike wail: " Mutter! mutter! ' 
 
 " Friend of yours, I take it," sympathetic- 
 ally observed Stuart. " Hard lines! Fine 
 chap nipping keen took the steel squarely. 
 The tall rotter over there skulked surren-
 
 410 The Blond Beast 
 
 dered just as soon as the others went down." 
 
 Thorpe bent over to complete the dressing of 
 Kurt's wound. The young Highland officer, 
 though faint and dizzy from his head wound, 
 insisted upon helping. Neither noticed how Von 
 Pappheim was slowly working his feet down the 
 soft earth slope on his side of the crater. 
 
 " Beastly mess, all this," sighed the boy. 
 " Seemed sporting at first, you know, but one 
 gets awfully fed up with it. Must carry on, of 
 course all that. My word, though ! To think 
 of a real chap like this being done in, and all 
 to enable the Kaiser " 
 
 The report of a pistol rang across the crater 
 bottom. Young Stuart swayed and crumpled 
 down across Kurt's knees. Thorpe stared up 
 into Von Pappheim 's out-thrust pistol muzzle. 
 Behind it the hatchet face was convulsed with 
 hate. 
 
 " Stand and salute, scliweinhund! " came the 
 gloating command. 
 
 Thorpe turned over on his hands and knees, 
 half rose in the position of a sprinter, and 
 bounded straight at his enemy. The down-sloped 
 pistol was within two feet of his head when 
 the firing-pin clicked the barrel was empty. 
 Thorpe was already plunging for a low tackle. 
 Von Pappheim went down so hard that the pistol 
 jerked out of his grasp. Thorpe kicked it aside 
 and stepped back. 
 
 11 Get up," he said. 
 
 The Prussian scrambled to his feet and raised 
 his hands as high overhead as he could reach. 
 Thorpe was cold as ice.
 
 The Givers 411 
 
 "You beast," he said. "If only I could 
 kill a prisoner! Hands down. I'm unarmed. 
 Defend yourself." 
 
 Von Pappheim jumped back towards where his 
 sword lay. Thorpe flashed in, straightened the 
 down-stooping Prussian with a brace of upper- 
 cuts, and flung the sword out of the pit. Forced 
 to fight with nature's weapons, the noble count 
 came at Thorpe with crooked fingers, furiously 
 seeking to scratch and gouge and choke 
 
 Long before Thorpe was done with him, the 
 murderer was begging for mercy and shielding 
 his battered face with his arms. In the end, 
 he flung himself down between two of the dead 
 soldiers and clung fast to them, moaning and 
 gasping. Thorpe stepped over beside Kurt and 
 called sharply: 
 
 " That's all I can do now worse luck! 
 Unfortunately I'm civilized, not kultured. Come 
 here and help carry Captain von Kissel. Wake 
 up step lively! " 
 
 The beaten count staggered to his feet and 
 tottered over to take the legs of his brother-in- 
 law under his arms as Thorpe raised the fore- 
 body. Kurt screamed and swooned. Thorpe 
 stiffened Von Pappheim 's wobbly knees with the 
 threat of another beating if he should fall or 
 release his hold on Kurt. By the time they came 
 to the second of the former British lines Von 
 Pappheim 's face was so swollen that he could 
 not see. Thorpe had to warn him where to step. 
 
 Not far beyond they met the ambulance return- 
 ing to the front. Von Pappheim 's tow hair was 
 clotted and grimed, his mustache as shapeless
 
 412 The Blond Beast 
 
 as his face. Lucy gazed at him pityingly. He 
 was unrecognizable. 
 
 " Poor man," she said as she swung down. 
 " Shrapnel, of course." 
 
 * ' No my fists that beast Von Pappheim, ' ' 
 jerked out Thorpe. " Here's Kurt dying." 
 
 The statement was true, though not precisely 
 in the sense intended. Kurt was still alive when 
 they brought him to the hospital. The over- 
 worked surgeon, at Lucy's urging, gave the 
 wound a second and more careful examination, 
 only to again shake his head. 
 
 " Sorry, Miss Carew hopeless. To operate 
 would be immediately fatal. Give an opiate if 
 he comes out of the coma." 
 
 The hospital was already full of the seriously 
 wounded. But a cot was jammed into a corner 
 for Kurt. The student found a new crew for 
 the ambulance. Thorpe remained to help dress 
 wounds. He could not force himself away while 
 his friend yet lived. Lucy put on a white dress 
 and quietly took charge of Kurt and the patients 
 near. The other nurses noted her deft assured 
 movements, and welcomed her assistance with- 
 out question. With thousands of wounded wait- 
 ing even for first aid, this was no time to quibble 
 over formalities. 
 
 Kurt lingered while others with far less fatal 
 injuries died all about him. His youth, clean 
 flesh and unusual vitality brought him out of 
 the coma. When he opened his eyes and saw 
 Lucy, love added all its power to his struggle for 
 life. He attempted to make light of his agony, 
 rather than take the opiate and lose his con-
 
 The Givers 413 
 
 seiousness of Lucy's presence beside his cot. 
 Yet a prescience of the end had already come 
 to him. 
 
 The merciful opiate carried him through the 
 night. In the morning, instead of passing out 
 without wakening, as all expected, he roused to 
 clear consciousness and an astonishing rally of 
 strength. To his dictation Lucy wrote his mother 
 and Elsa farewell letters full of love and faith 
 and courage. But he made no mention of the 
 war or the Fatherland or Majestdt. 
 
 His next wish was so to will his newly acquired 
 fortune that it would be divided between Lucy 
 and Thorpe, after his mother had enjoyed the 
 income for life. Lucy gently explained that she 
 already had a larger fortune than was good 
 for anyone to possess, and Thorpe insisted upon 
 the will being drawn in Elsa's favor, with a 
 provision barring control by Von Pappheim. 
 
 " He's a prisoner now, you know," added 
 Thorpe. " That makes him safe, worse luck! 
 The British are housing their captive German 
 officers in Alexandra Palace. Like the others, 
 the noble Wolf will be fed on lamb and sheltered 
 from all harm until the end of the war. Then 
 he will go back to abuse Elsa and help plan 
 new wars." 
 
 The dying man's eyes darkened with an 
 anguish far harder to bear than physical pain. 
 
 " I know, dear friend," he murmured. " It 
 seems to me now as if I have always known. 
 In the Fatherland the noble idealism of Goethe 
 and Schiller and Lessing has been submerged 
 under the power-worship of mad Nietzsche. The
 
 414 The Blond Beast 
 
 militarists the Pan-Germanists dominate a 
 now yoked and servile people. Upon Europe 
 are let loose the blond beasts of Nietzsche, tram- 
 pling women and children under the iron heel 
 of f rightf ulness . . . and at their head, abetting, 
 encouraging, commanding to ruthlessness, the 
 man whom I thought chosen of God the man 
 whom I believed the peace Emperor! " 
 
 Exhausted by this flare of anguish, the sufferer 
 lapsed into a coma, from which he roused with 
 the last flicker of his life flame. His whisper, 
 though broken and barely audible, was clearly 
 coherent : 
 
 " Peace and rest an end to pain and grief! 
 Do not weep . . . Think of me as you knew me in 
 that free land of yours... You would not take 
 my fortune then I give you to each other... 
 My Iron Cross and Red Eagle drop them 
 overboard at night where the ocean is 
 deepest. . . " 
 
 The whisper ceased. . .Thorpe looked, and 
 drew the blanket up over the face of the suf- 
 ferer who had found peace and rest. Those 
 who yet lived had neither peace nor rest, but 
 war and work. Thorpe lifted Lucy from her 
 knees and led her out. 
 
 When they were quite alone, she put her hands 
 upon his shoulders and pressed her tear-wet face 
 against his breast. 
 
 " Oh, Lan! You heard him. He saw! " 
 
 11 He saw all he understood all," said 
 Thorpe, and his arms closed about the sobbing 
 girl. " We kept the faith with him. He knew 
 and was glad. The bitterness was for those who
 
 The Givers 415 
 
 have not kept the faith ' My Iron Cross . . . 
 where the ocean is deepest.' " 
 
 " For him to say that, Lan he who all but 
 worshiped his Kaiser. How he must have suf- 
 fered ! . . . The Kaiser and count and all their 
 like apostles and disciples of frightfulness 
 blond beasts of Nietzsche! " 
 
 Thorpe pushed her back to look resolutely into 
 her compassionate eyes. 
 
 11 Can you marry a man who is about to lose 
 his American birthright, Lucy? I must do more 
 than^ this ambulance work. For me to act as a 
 neutral any longer is impossible. I must take 
 my place in the trenches. That means loss of 
 citizenship. ' ' 
 
 11 But America will understand in time, dear. 
 Then it too can no longer remain neutral . . . 
 Will I marry you? Why, dear heart, what else 
 do you suppose I followed you to Europe for? " 
 
 11 I believe," said Thorpe, " that it must have 
 been to inspire me to do with all my strength 
 my part in this great struggle." 
 
 Lucy shuddered and drew herself close again 
 in his sheltering arms. 
 
 " The struggle to free the Elsas and Kurts, 
 no less than to save ourselves from the fate of 
 Belgium! " she cried. ""I give you to that. 
 The mark of the Beast is upon those who have 
 yoked their own people and goaded them into 
 this mad frenzy of frightfulness." 
 
 Thorpe clenched his fist. 
 
 " Better that America should give every dollar 
 of her vast wealth for the defense of freedom 
 and right better for all American men to shed
 
 416 The Blond Beast 
 
 the last drop of their blood in the protection 
 of their women and children than for us to 
 submit to the dominance of those cold-blooded 
 monsters for whom no treachery, no dishonor 
 is too black or repulsive." 
 
 " Our women too must help/' said Lucy 
 " yes, and the children. . .You will go into the 
 trenches, but I will work behind the trenches 
 to help my man win the struggle for the freedom 
 of the world." 
 
 THE END
 
 Ill 
 
 000 051 674