"That is hard work, Madame," he said after a bit.
"These are hard times, Monsieur," she returned gravely. "The war has left us little but our health and our determination to make the best of things."
"I always heard that Polish ladies have high courage," he went on, with a stiff Teutonic bow. "And now I see it for myself."
"Courage is one of the few things war does not destroy," put in the priest.
The Prussian gave him a glance, as if he were trying to think where they had met before. His face was a worry to the Father. Where, oh where had he seen the man?
"Madame," he resumed, when he had stared at Father Constantine a second time. "Allow me to put some of my men to this stacking. They are rough peasants and will get it done in no time."
She hesitated, then accepted his offer, which the priest was glad of. She had been working hard since the early morning, and looked very tired. He called some troopers and set them to work with short, dry words of command, which they obeyed with alacrity. Then he went with the Countess and her chaplain into the house, asking all sorts of questions about it. Of course he had heard of Ruvno and its now ruined glories. And when the Countess left them to rest, he questioned Father Constantine about the plate, jewels, and especially the emeralds. The priest answered him as best he could, and they gradually lapsed into silence. He sat in one of Ian's easy chairs smoking a cigar. Suddenly he got up and said:
"Take me to the Countess' wardrobe."
Father Constantine stared at him in amazement. Hitherto his manners had been such an improvement on those of preceding Prussians that he could scarce believe his ears.
"Do you hear? To her wardrobe," he repeated, with a shade of sternness.