HELD IN BONDAGE
Two French officers, wearing the red velvet bands of the medical service upon their caps, followed an old woman down the staircase of a pleasant villa-residence on the outskirts of Mainz.
“The bedrooms will suit perfectly,” said the elder of the two officers, a major, in German. “And now a sitting-room?”
The old woman led them along a passage and, without a word, threw open the door of a room lined with books. The two officers entered, looked about them.
They were startled by a man’s voice behind them.
“Good day, messieurs!”
They turned to see a tall civilian, pince-nez gleaming over exceptionally blue eyes, fair moustache, fair hair cut short and brushed up straight from a square forehead, smiling at them from the doorway.
“I am Doctor Breidenbach—at your service,” he said courteously in accentless French.