the son of a prince. You've already had adventures with two of them."

"One of whom I liked."

"He looks like a good fellow," said Wharton. "I'm glad you saved him.
Rub his hands while I give him a taste of this."

John and Carstairs rubbed his palms until he opened his eyes, when
Wharton put a flask to his lips and made him drink. He groaned again and
tried to sit up.

"Just you lie still, Herr Katzenellenbogen," said Wharton. "You're in
the hands of your friends, the enemy, but we're saving your life or
rather it's been done already by the man on your left; name, John Scott;
nationality, American; service, French."

Captain Colton appeared and threw a white light with his own electric
torch upon the little group.

"What have you there?" he asked.

"Young German who lay groaning too near the edge of our trench," replied
Carstairs. "Scott couldn't stand it, so he went out and brought him in.
Fancy his name is Katzenellenbogen, Kaiserslautern, Hohenfriedberg, or
something else short and simple."

Captain Colton permitted himself a grim smile.

"Your act of mercy, Scott, does honor to you," he said, "though it's no
part of your business to get yourself killed helping a wounded enemy.