"Fritz!" she said at last, for she recognized the peasant who had been a stable-boy on her father's estate before he took service in the grenadiers. "You are Fritz Barr!"
He flushed with pleasure.
"Madame remembers me?"
"And my little black pony you used to take care of?"
"Yes, yes!"
He grinned and nodded; and then she noted a revolver in the holster at his side.
"What are your orders, Fritz?"
"To let no one pass down this hall. I am sorry, madame."
"But if I were to ask you for your revolver?"
He stirred uneasily and she took money from her purse and gave it to him.