wound is not mortal, but I should certainly have frozen to death out
there if one of you had not come for me."

"Scott went, of course," said Carstairs. "He's an American and naturally
a tuft-hunter. He's been making a long list of princely acquaintances
recently, and he was bound to bring in the son of a field-marshal and
make a friend of him, too."

"Shut up, Carstairs," said John. "You talk this way to hide your own
imperfections. You know that at heart every Englishman is a snob."

"Snobby is as snobby does," laughed Carstairs. "Now, Kratzek, lie back
again and we'll spread these blankets over you."

The young Austrian smiled.

"I've fallen into very good company," he said.

John, whose character was serious, felt some sadness as he looked at
him. He remembered those gay Viennese who had set the torch of the great
war, and how merry they were over it with their visions of quick victory
and glory. Poor, gay, likable, light-headed Austrians! Brave but
short-sighted, they were likely to suffer more than any other nation!
The fair, handsome youth, wrapped now in the blankets, seemed to him to
typify all the Austrian qualities.

"You'd better go to sleep if you can," said John. "We can't move you
yet, but in time you'll reach a good hospital of ours in the rear."

"I'll obey you," said Kratzek, in the most tractable manner, and closing