“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve hardly had time to think. I want to have a real good sunny, bright holiday and forget it all. It was funny to see all the letters in my room. It looked so black on Wednesday night that I had settled up my affairs and written to all my friends. I don’t quite know how they were to be delivered, but I trusted to luck. I think I will keep those papers as a souvenir. They will always remind me of how close a shave we have had.”
“Yes, I would keep them,” said Dresler.
His voice was so deep and solemn that every eye was turned upon him.
“What is it, Colonel? You seem in the blues to-night.” It was Ainslie who spoke.
“No, no; I am very contented.”
“Well, so you should be when you see success in sight. I am sure we are all indebted to you for your science and skill. I don’t think we could have held the place without you. Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to drink the health of Colonel Dresler, of the Imperial German army. Er soll leben—hoch!”
They all stood up and raised their glasses to the soldier, with smiles and bows.
His pale face flushed with professional pride.
“I have always kept my books with me. I have forgotten nothing,” said he. “I do not think that more could be done. If things had gone wrong with us and the place had fallen you would, I am sure, have freed me from any blame or responsibility.” He looked wistfully round him.
“I’m voicing the sentiments of this company, Colonel Dresler,” said the Scotch minister, “when I say——but, Lord save us! what’s amiss with Mr. Ralston?”