A soldier interrupted him. He stepped up to Ernst, saluted, and, permission given, spoke in the officer's ear. Ernst started.
"One minute," he said. "I am called away—I will return in one minute."
The minute dragged itself out. In all directions there was a rising sound, confused, urgent. Fifteen minutes passed. Then a soldier came to Fred.
"The lieutenant will see you inside," he said, gravely.
Fred followed him. Ernst, his face sober, but with shining eyes, spoke to him at once.
"War has been declared," he said. "War between Germany and Russia! My young friend, you are in hard luck! The train from which you were expelled is the last that will even start for Berlin until the mobilization is complete."
Outside there was a sudden rattle of rifle fire. Fred stared at the German officer.
"That is the beginning," he said. "We happen to have the stronger force here. We are taking possession of the Russian side of the border station! I wish we might catch Suvaroff—he is a good soldier, that one at least, and worth a division to the Russians. But there'll be no such luck. He'll have got away, of course—a fast motor, or some such way. And they've got more troops close up than we have."