“Turned down!” exclaimed the irrepressible Anguish, dolefully. “That's pretty shabby treatment, old man. But she's quite worth the journey.”
“I'll not go back to America without her. Do you hear that, Harry Anguish?” He was excited and trembling. “But why didn't she stop?” he went on, dismally.
“Oh, you dear old fool!” said Anguish.
The two stood looking after the carriage until it turned into a side street, half way down the shady stretch toward the castle. They saw her companion glance back, but could not tell whether she did or not. Lorry looked uneasily at Anguish, and the latter read his thought.
“You are wondering about the Guggenslocker name, eh? I'll tell you what I've worked out during the past two minutes. Her name is no more Guggenslocker than mine is. She and the uncle used that name as a blind. Mark my words, she's quality over here; that's all there is about it. Now, we must find out just who she really is. Here comes a smart-looking soldier chap. Let's ask him, providing we can make him understand.”
A young soldier approached, leisurely twirling a cane, for he was without his side arms. Anguish accosted him in French and then in German. He understood the latter and was very polite.
“Who was the young lady in the carriage that just passed?” asked Lorry, eagerly.
The face of the soldier flushed and then grew pale with anger.
“Hold on! I beg pardon, but we are strangers and don't quite understand your ways. I can't see anything improper in asking such a question,” said Anguish, attempting to detain him. The young man struck his hand from his arm and his eyes fairly blazed.
“You must learn our ways. We never pass comment on a lady. If you do so in your land, I am sorry for your ladies. I refuse to be questioned by you. Stand aside, fellow!”