they don't love us, although they have much of our blood in their veins.
There are many people among them bearing German names who denounce us.
When we finish with our enemies here in Europe we'll teach the barbarous
Americans to love the Kaiser."

"A hard task," said John, with meaning.

"So it will be," said Lieutenant Schmidt, taking his meaning
differently, "but the harder the task the better we Germans love it.
And now, Castel, here comes your passport. Its little winged words will
bear you safely to the headquarters of General Osterweiler thirty miles
to the north and east, and there you'll have to get another passport, if
you can. _Auf wiedersehen,_ Jean Castel. Your forefathers were French,
but you are German, good German, and I wish you well."

Lieutenant Schmidt's cheeks were very red just then, not altogether with
the cold, and his benevolence had extended to the whole world, including
the French and English, whom he must fight regretfully.

"Oh," said John, as an afterthought, although he was keenly noting his
condition, "while I was wandering in the snow of the big storm, I heard
from a sentinel that one of our great generals and beloved princes.
Prince Karl of Auersperg, had passed this way with his train."

Perhaps if Lieutenant Schmidt had not taken so much good Munich beer
after a long fast he might have become suspicious, because it was not
the question that an ordinary peasant and cattle-herder would ask unless
the previous conversation had led directly to it. But as it was he
fairly exuded trust and kindness.