At this Elizabeth rose to her feet and started hastily forward. “Major Harding!” she begged, “one moment listen! Franz knew Karl because they had a little business of selling wood together. Franz somehow learned that I was in Coblenz. He offered to take me to see Karl, for one year I had not seen him. But, because Karl was afraid to cross the river—for he feared to meet General Gordon or Mr. Bob—Franz fixed it that I might cross and meet Karl here. There is no wrong in that, Major—except a little secrecy. I the truth tell you!”
Major Harding looked at Elizabeth’s honest, pleading eyes, at the hands clasped on her breast, and slowly nodded.
“I believe you, Elizabeth,” he said. “But I believe you have been fooled. You were meant to do just what you are doing—by your known honesty to whitewash von Eckhardt and his crew. It wasn’t a bad idea, for it almost succeeded. Don’t you know anything at all about their schemes? What was Karl saying to you before we came in?”
He spoke low, knowing that Karl was listening like a fox, but Elizabeth answered frankly:
“He talked a little of the Fatherland—how poor it was and how bitter was defeat. He said we must work for Germany. I, too, was willing—many poor there are around us here.”
“But that wasn’t the kind of work he meant,” said Major Harding. “I suppose he’d have got to it presently.” Suddenly changing into German he asked Franz, “Why did you bring Frau Müller here?”
“To see her husband, Herr Captain,” Franz answered, breathing hard. “We Germans befriend each other. Why are you angry?“
“Come, Harding, don’t you see there’s only one way?” said Larry, losing patience.
“Yes,” Major Harding nodded. “Step over here, Karl.”
“Ed, keep an eye on Franz,” said Larry, as Karl slowly advanced to the table on which the candle burned. “Karl, hands up,” he ordered.