The Thorn in the Nest

by Martha Finley

"Hans," said he, while the man was busied about his person, "you are from Hesse, I think, and were over here during the war?"

"Yass, mynheer, that ish so; but I dells it not to dese peobles."

"No; of course not; and you need not fear that I shall betray you. But your experience may enable you to be of use to me in a new capacity."

"Vat ish dot, mynheer?"

"Have patience, Hans, and I will explain all in good time. Were you an officer?"

"Nine, nine, mynheer; not so goot as dot; vat you galls a brivateer?"

"A private, you blockhead," corrected Lyttleton, with a laugh. "Well, I wish you had been higher, though," he added meditatively. "If I could but get hold of the uniform of a Hessian officer, it would not matter now."

"Vell, mynheer, an' you gan keep von leedle segret, I dinks dot gan be found?"

"What! here in this little out of the way village?"

Hans nodded wisely. "Yaas, I finds him pooty quick."