He found that War recognizes but few laws, and even fewer obligations.
It seemed that his standing as a man of learning, his claim as a
citizen of the United States, availed him nothing. Standing there, a
prisoner, with a helpless child on either side, the ivy-covered walls
of his beloved Princeton seemed far away indeed. As lie closed his
tired eyes for an instant he could see a clear and lovely picture of
the velvet green campus and the great iron gates opening on the smooth
and level streets shaded by lofty trees. He heard the chimes, the
laughter of happy young fellows passing to and fro. There were rows
and rows of peaceful homes, stately mansions and simple cottages. On
level, perfectly kept tennis courts, here and there, men and girls all
in white played tennis. He saw his friends --

But opening his weary eyes, he saw a gorgeous, tumbled room whose
princely draperies were torn and full of saber cuts, a sideboard where
priceless glass had been a target for the rough play by rougher men.
Before him were the two hard, blonde German faces, and there he stood,
a prisoner, with his two children clinging to him. Warren and Elinor
were gone, he knew not where.

Captain Handel stood motionless, but Captain Schmitt rose civilly and
bowed when he saw Evelyn. He could not help it. The girl was so
noble, so lovely, and hid her fright so gallantly, that he was
compelled to pay her the slight courtesy that he did.

"Captain Handel tells me that this notebook is yours, Professor
Morris," Gustav commenced in almost perfect English.

"It is," said the Professor. He eyed it hungrily, and reached a hand