figure.

"Blessed Saints!" she said, wondering. "How much that child
resembled His Royal Highness!"

The old soldier who rented opera glasses at the second landing,
and who had left a leg in Bosnia, leaned over the railing. "Look
at that!" he exclaimed. "He will break a leg, the young rascal!
Once I could have - but there, he is safe! The good God watches
over fools and children."

"It looked like the little Prince," said the wardrobe woman. "I
have seen him often - he has the same bright hair."

But the opera-glass man was not listening. He had drawn a long
sausage from one pocket and a roll from the other, and now,
retiring to a far window, he stood placidly eating - a bite of
sausage, a bite of bread. His mind was in Bosnia, with his leg.
And because old Adelbert's mind was in Bosnia, and because one
hears with the mind, and not with the ear, he did not hear the
sharp question of the sentry who ran down the stairs and paused
for a second at the cloak-room. Well for Olga, too, that old
Adelbert did not hear her reply.

"He has not passed here," she said, with wide and honest eyes;
but with an ear toward old Adelbert. "An old gentleman came a
moment ago and got a sandwich, which he had left in his overcoat.
Perhaps this is whom you are seeking?"

The sentry cursed, and ran down the staircase, the nails in his