"That must be Ober Gersthof," decided the Englishman, referring to his map. "No railway within fifteen miles. Well, I reckon that I've done enough for to-day, so here's for the luxury of a bed. Now the question is: have I to treat these Bohemian peasantry in the same way as the Junkers deal with theirs? I suppose so, since Austro-Hungary, nominally an ally of Prussia, is actually a dependent and vassal state."
At about a mile from the village the bogus baron came across the first human being he had seen since the untimely, yet, in a sense, fortunate demise of Major von Stopelfeld. Ambling along a lane was a farm hand leading a low cart laden with a late autumn crop of hay. He was whistling blithely, his full features, tanned with exposure to wind and sun, and his fleshy arms contrasted forcibly with the shrunken, bloodless subjects of the German Kaiser.
The Englishman halted, put down his portmanteau, and imperiously beckoned to the countryman to hasten. This the man did, evidently out of good humour and a desire to render assistance, but his face showed no signs of the utter subservience of the menial Hun.
"I have been compelled by the storm to leave my carriage and servants at Teutelsfeld," announced the make-believe German officer, naming a village about ten miles away and far to the east of the pass through which he had come. "I desire to get to the railway at the nearest station."
"That is at Reichenberg, a good six hours' journey, Herr Offizier," replied the man respectfully, yet without any sign of cringing.
"Is there a good inn here?" inquired the Englishman, pointing towards the village. "A good inn, mind."
"The 'Three Feathers,' mein herr," answered the peasant. "If you will let me, I will carry your baggage and direct you to the door."
This the peasant did, receiving a mark note for his services, for the "major" found himself well provided with paper currency in addition to silver money equivalent to £3 in British coinage.
The landlord accepted the traveller's explanation without demur, being of a simple open nature, and after a plain but substantial meal the Englishman went to bed, reflecting that but for the difference in language and the characteristic Bohemian scenery he might have been in a rural village in his native land.
Early next morning the pseudo baron hired a conveyance which set him down at Reichenberg just before noon. At the station were hundreds of reservists and a fair sprinkling of Austrian officers; and not without certain feelings of trepidation the Englishman took a first-class ticket for Vienna.