In the next compartment sat Grumbach. He was smoking his faithful pipe. He was, withal, content. This was far more satisfactory than standing up before the firing-line. And, besides, he had made history in Ehrenstein that night; they would not forget the name of Breunner right away. To America, with a clean slate and a reposeful conscience; it was more than he had any reasonable right to expect. Tekla! He laughed sardonically. She was no doubt sound asleep by this time, and the end of the chapter would never be written for her. What fools these young men a-courting were! War and famine and pestilence; did these not always follow at the heels of women?
As the station-master's bell rang, the door opened and a man jumped in. He tossed his bag into the corner and plumped down in the seat.
"Captain?"
"You, Hans?"
"Yes. Where are you going?"
"I am weary of Dreiberg, so I am taking a little vacation."
"For how long?" suspiciously.
"Oh, for ever so long!" evasively. And Carmichael lifted his feet to the opposite seat and prepared to go to sleep.
Hans said nothing more. He was full of wisdom. He had an idea. The fleeing chancellor and his daughter were on the train, and he was certain that his friend Carmichael knew it.
The lights of the city presently vanished, and the long journey began, through the great clefts in the mountains, over gorges, across rivers, along wide valleys, and into the mountains again; a journey of nearly seventy hours. At each stop Carmichael got out, and every time he returned Hans could read disappointment on his face. Still he said nothing. He was an admirable comrade.