"No, it is my wish that you return by train. Take a day's holiday, if you will. You will be back in time."
The young man's expression was clouded. He was obviously disappointed.
"But, Excellency," he pleaded, "there is trouble in Berlin. It is best, indeed, that I should be by your side."
Falkenberg held out his hand.
"My dear Fritz," he replied, "you will obey my orders, as you always have done. It is my wish that you return by the ordinary train to-morrow night."
"There is nothing I can do—no message—"
"Nothing!" Falkenberg interrupted. "Look after yourself. Leave me now, if you please."
The young man moved reluctantly towards the door.
"Excellency," he protested, "I do not desire a day's holiday. Things in Berlin are bad. Let us talk together on our way north. You have never yet known defeat. We can plan our way through, or fight it. Don't tell me to leave you, dear master!" he wound up, with a sudden change of tone. "There are still ways."
Falkenberg laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder.