“I’ll have a try at it myself, anyway. Larry’s got a lot to do and I have nothing. I feel perfectly well, Dad. My leg’s a bit stiff at times, nothing worse.”
“Tell Lucy to stay in bed nights and not scour the countryside, will you?” General Gordon called after his son as Bob neared the door. “I wish I’d sent her to England, too.”
Bob lost no time in putting into practice his father’s suggestion, for direct action exactly suited his impatient nature. He started out that afternoon for the woodcutter’s cottage, without saying anything more to Lucy than that he was going for a stroll in the forest. He thought of asking Armand de la Tour to go with him, but on considering decided that Franz might feel more inclined to frankness if an American officer were his only inquisitor.
At first he walked as fast as his mended leg would allow, but in a few minutes the beauty of the afternoon sunlight sifting through the forest trees and the pleasant cold air blowing against his face made him slacken speed and dawdle a little, rejoicing in his recovered health and energy. The bitter Arctic winter, and all he had suffered in the frozen North, seemed far away. He thought to himself, with a burst of joyful optimism, that the war was gloriously won, and that Franz’ little plottings were, after all, hardly worth bothering about.
But, although he loitered, the clearing appeared before long in sight and, looking at Franz’ cottage, he remembered his doubts and his present mission. He crossed the clearing and knocked at the cottage door.
Men’s voices sounded inside, speaking in quick, low tones. There was a short pause, then shuffled steps approached the door and Trudchen opened it a few inches, looking apprehensively into Bob’s face. She did not even smile or curtsey, but her painful agitation held no surprise. It was evident that Bob had been seen crossing the clearing.
“Good-day, Frau,” said he. “Where is your husband?”
Trudchen hesitated, glancing back into the room, but Bob waited for no refusal. He pushed open the door and faced Franz and Herr Johann, who stood before the fire staring at him, Franz in open-mouthed dismay, Herr Johann with a scowl on his proud, handsome face.
“Franz, I have something to say to you,” said Bob to the woodcutter. “And I think it may also interest this Herr,” he added, nodding toward the other, who was listening in silent intentness.
Franz looked doubtfully at Herr Johann, who answered with calm surprise, “And what may it be, Herr Captain? We are at your service. Franz, thou donkey, canst thou not offer the Herr Captain a seat by the fire?”