Then came sudden enlightenment. Auersperg was medieval. In his heart he
arrogated to himself the right of justice, the upper, the middle and the
low, and all other kinds, but he had ability and mingled with it an
extreme order of cunning. Julie of the Red Cross, a healer of wounds and
disease, would not be held a prisoner, but Julie, a spy, would be kept a
close captive, and her life would be in the hands of the general
commanding those who had taken her. Oh, it was cunning! So cunning that
its success seemed complete, and he thrilled in every vein with pain and
anger.

"Are you ill?" asked the good Johanna, who had noticed the sudden
deepening of his pallor.

"Not at all, thank you," he replied, forcing himself to speak in a level
tone. "I feel splendidly. All of you are too kind to me. But that was an
interesting story about the prince and the girl whom he brought with
him, who might be either a relative or a captive."

"I'm thinking she must have been his niece," said romantic Annette, "but
I'm sure she didn't love him. Perhaps she wanted to run away with some
fine young officer, and he caught her and brought her back."

"When did they leave?"

"Very early this morning. They came in automobiles, but neither when
they arrived nor when they departed was the lady in the machine with the
prince. She and the woman with her, who must have been her servant,
were in a small machine alone, except for the chauffeur."

"It's a strange tale. Which way did they go?"