"Quite right, Herr General," said I. I submitted because I didn't care.

My luggage was packed off to the station, where he saw that my ticket
was for Paris.

"Good morning," he said, as I entered the carriage compartment. "The
devil will soon come to his own; ach!"

"My compliments to him when you see him!" I called back, not to be
outdone in the matter of courtesy.


"And that is all, Jack," concluded Hillars. "For all these months not
an hour has passed in which I have not cursed the folly of that moment.
Instead of healing under the balm of philosophy, the wound grows more
painful every day. She did not love me, I know, but she would have
been near me. And if the King had taken away her principality, she
would have needed me in a thousand ways. And it is not less than
possible that in time she might have learned the lesson of love. But
now--if she is the woman I believe her to be, she never could love me
after what has happened. And knowing this, I can't leave liquor alone,
and don't want to. In my cups I do not care."

"I feel sorry for you both," said I. "Has the Prince married her yet?"

"No. It has been postponed. Next Monday I am going back. I am going
in hopes of getting into trouble. I may never see her again, perhaps.
To-morrow, to-morrow! Who knows? Well, I'm off to bed. Good night."